


That Damn Bird

by TiredofOldUsernamesMF



Category: Maltese Falcon - Dashiell Hammett, The Maltese Falcon (1941)
Genre: Drama, Literature, M/M, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-01-23 15:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12510568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredofOldUsernamesMF/pseuds/TiredofOldUsernamesMF
Summary: The Maltese Falcon from Wilmer's perspective. Why did he kill? Did he even care about the falcon? Really something of a character study in story form, but also a story. Imported from DeviantArt, so there might be some formatting issues or something. If I fucked up and didn't edit something properly, please let me know. I'm new at this, so hopefully this will get better as I go.Trigger Warnings will be included as needed. This story is pretty dark in places, and not meant for people under 18, though I assume somebody will break this rule. That's bad. Don't do that, I guess.Thank you and enjoy! Sorry to include this as a summary, but I want people to read it.





	1. London

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is. I wrote a fanfic for The Maltese Falcon. I'm gonna put a few notes here.
> 
> 1\. The character descriptions and plot points come from the book, though it takes place in the movie's time period (1941). Since it doesn't matter, feel free to visualize the characters as looking like the movie.
> 
> 2\. This is from the PoV of Wilmer Cook, who's kind of a minor character, but he kills people, so, naturally, there will be violence. There will also be sexual content and some overlap between the two. If anything really messed up is going to happen. There will be a Trigger Warning down here and the fic will be marked as containing mature content in general.
> 
> 3\. These early chapters of set-up, where I had to figure out how everyone meets everyone aren't based on much of anything, so they might not be as good as later chapters. 
> 
> 4\. This chapter includes old British gay slang (Polari), which may or may not be blatantly showing off. I tried to keep it to a minimum. 
> 
> 5\. Yes, Wilmer is gay. If you want to know more context, it's easy to find articles online that discuss all the gay stuff in The Maltese Falcon. Yes, there will be slash. 
> 
> So...Yeah. Enjoy! 

That Damn Bird: Chapter 1 

Yeah, I killed those guys. Thursby, Jacoby, and Gutman, though I only killed the first two because he said so. If you knew him, you’d know why. You’d also know why I killed him. The son of a bitch had had it coming for over a year. My name’s Wilmer Cook, if you didn’t already know. One of the two people I trust, you’ll hear more about him later, told me that it might help me to write everything down. I could think it through. Of course, I’ll probably burn it when I’m done, considering that I just confessed to three murders, and I’m gonna mention several other crimes as well. 

So, this is mostly about the last of the three murders, since it was the only one that was my idea. Really, it starts with how I met the guy, and sort of my entire life as well. My birthday is November 20, 1921. At the time I’m writing this, I’m 20. I was born and raised in New York, for the most part, though I tried to escape several times. When I was 16, I actually succeeded. My father, a cop, was gonna get me locked up over something that doesn’t matter. For some reason, just running in whatever direction, I got on a boat to London, or somewhere nearby, hoping to escape forever. This was in the middle of 1938, I think.

I got along well enough on the streets of London. I did some honest work in shops, but that never lasted long. It was mostly robberies after that. I had a group of friends by that point, and we lived and worked as a team. One of them, Johnny, we were really close. We spent a night in a cell together, and for a while, we spent every night together, but the other guys found out and we had to run for it. We made some new friends with another type of criminal. To get by, I had to do a few things that I’m not proud out. But, I wasn’t alone. Johnny and the others taught me how to live out there and how to speak the language. The queers in London don’t speak regular English. 

One night in what I think was August, 1939, I got in a bit of trouble. Some guys lured me off somewhere, saying they'd pay me, but they beat me up and planned on handing me over to the coppers. I got out by shooting one of them. I didn’t kill him. I got him in the leg. Some of the others chased me, and they probably would’ve caught me if someone else hadn’t gotten to me first. You see, at one of the flats I often walked by, there was this guy. He was always coming in or out of the building, or walking by the building. Sometimes there was a woman with him. I have no idea why he was always out when I was. Maybe he’d been told to spy on me. But, I was nobody then, so I have no clue why. 

Anyway, he found me before the others did. He looked like the sort of guy you didn’t want to mess with. He was tall and had a lot of muscle on him. He had very thick eyebrows that somehow made him always look angry. I knew he could snap me in half like a twig, and I was worried for a second that he wanted to, but that woman that was sometimes with him showed up, and it felt like he wouldn’t kill some random kid in front of her. 

“You alright, kid?”

His accent was American. That was a weird coincidence.

“Why’s it any of your business?”

“I can get you out of here. My boss lives in that building there. He’ll take you in.”

“For what price?”

“Sort that out with him. Now, do you wanna get away from those guys or not?”

The whole thing seemed pretty sketchy to me, but it couldn’t be any worse than where I’d been, so I went along. The lobby of the building was deserted, except for a man at the desk, who appeared to be asleep. I followed the big guy and his lady friend into an elevator. The dame felt the need to fill the silence.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Wilmer.”

“Brigid O’Shaughnessy. It’s nice to meet you.”

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“Floyd Thursby.”

Thursby didn’t say anything. 

“Why do you only go by one name?”

“The second name’s Cook, but I don’t care for it.”

“Oh. Do you not like your family?”

“Mind your own damn business, lady.”

I expected her to be offended by that, but she just muttered an apology and let me be. Interesting doll. 

The flat we went to was near the top floor. It was a fancy place. Thursby’s boss clearly had a lot of money. Said boss took a moment to answer the door. The man was very fat, which is all most people would remember about him. He dressed nicely, I guess, but he was rich, and they’re all like that. He didn’t have much hair. What little hair he did have was these short, curly, black rings that didn’t look like they belonged on a man’s head, but maybe somewhere else. Other than that, I remember his voice more than anything else. This low, refined, purring sound. I could listen to it for hours, which I often had to, since he really liked to talk. Over time, I started to hate that sound, especially when he laughed. It was a soft laugh, usually with no vowels in it. Just “Hmm” sounds. 

“Miss O’Shaughnessy, I didn’t expect you until tomorrow morning.”

I thought he was Thursby’s boss. Why was he talking to her?

“I know, but Floyd seems to be in a charitable mood. He met this boy on the street. He was in a bit of trouble, and Floyd seemed to think that you could help.” 

He didn’t really seem to be paying attention to her as she talked. He was looking at me the whole time. If she wasn’t talking about me, it would’ve been a bit weird.

“Yes, I see. What is your name, young man?”

“Wilmer Cook.”

“Casper Gutman, Esquire.”

“What does Esquire mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Miss O’Shaughnessy claims that you’re in some sort of trouble. Would you care to elaborate?”

“I’m alright now. Thursby just got me away from some guys that were after me. Said they’d hand me over to the sharpies. They’re probably gone now.”

“That’s good, if you’re certain. What were these men after you for?”

“I don’t know. They said they had some work for me and they didn’t.”

“I assume the work in question had something to do with them handing you over to the police.”

I’d used a word for “police” that most people didn’t know. I didn’t mean to. I’d just gotten into a pattern of using it. I didn’t expect him to know it. Rich guys don’t know this stuff unless they do a lot of talking to people like me. Maybe he could be trusted.

“Yeah. They said they were looking for trade. I have to make some sort of living. You’re not gonna turn me in, are you?”

“Of course not. I understand what you’re saying. Your secret’s safe with me.”

I dropped a hint on purpose this time. The guys said they wanted to fuck me. This guy seemed to know that. I wonder if the other two did. They were just standing around, waiting for someone to say something to them.

“Well, it seems that you two have found something to talk about.” O’Shaughnessy said, bored of waiting, probably.

“Indeed, we have.” Gutman answered. “Wilmer, have you anywhere to stay?”

“I usually shack up for the night with whoever pays. I’ll probably be out on the street tonight.”

“I won’t have that. You’ll stay here. You can sleep in the spare bedroom down the hall behind me.”

“You’re just gonna let me stay free of charge?”

“This isn’t a hotel, so you don’t need to pay me, and I’m not asking for your services, so I shouldn’t need to pay you. This is a kindness, an act of charity, nothing more.” 

So far, he’d actually struck me as the charitable type, so I bought it. When Thursby and his girl left, I went straight to bed. I had the best night’s sleep I’d had in years. In the morning, Gutman went out to breakfast and took me out with him. We went to a place that had really good coffee. He talked a lot, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I don’t remember every word he ever said to me. Then, he led me around town for a while. I met people who worked for him for various reasons. He made a lot of money in business that I promised to keep secret. I’m only doing it because somebody probably owns all that stuff now, and he never did anything to me.

I kept staying at Gutman’s flat. He never gave me any reason to leave, and he didn’t want me to. I helped him with a few jobs, but I didn’t need to pay rent, so it was mostly pointless. He paid for everything. I kept pestering him about why he was being so nice and he explained it, sort of. I think it was September by then, and we were in the main room of his flat.

“Wilmer, have I ever told you about my daughter, Rhea?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Her poor mother died years ago. I love Rhea, of course, but I always wanted a son, and I never had a chance to get one. I’ll never find another woman to marry, now that I’m growing old. I’ll never have a son of my own. But, I have you. For whatever reason, you feel like my own flesh and blood. I wish that I could be your father.”

“Considering that my real father is a son of a bitch, I kinda wish you could be my father instead.”

Of course, that led the conversation to the topic of my family back in New York. I should probably say that I missed them, but I didn’t, I still don’t, I never will, and I’m sure they feel the same. I don’t like to talk about them, but Gutman got me to tell him everything. He was actually willing to let me talk when I felt like it, and he actually listened. Maybe I needed that. I don’t know. So, he coaxed the story out of me.

“You rarely mention your father.”

“He’s not worth mentioning.”

“If he’s upset you as much as he has, he clearly is.”

“He shouldn’t be. He wouldn’t want to talk about me.”

“I can assume that he doesn’t like you.”

“Why do you think I ran away?”

“Why did you run away?”

I knew that I wouldn’t get out of telling the story, so I had to tell him.  



	2. Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Backstory Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this the second chapter. I didn't have a lot to go on for this, so I just made a backstory that worked.

Chapter 2

I can’t remember exactly how I put everything in that conversation, so the best I can do is just tell the story and say what Gutman said in response, when I can remember it. I’ll start by saying that my father didn’t hate me for being queer. He hated me in general. Some people might deny it, say it was “tough love”, or whatever, but I don’t believe that. He had three kids and he only liked the first one.

Howard, that first kid, is much older than me, almost by a decade. With Father working and Mother busy with something she never talked about, he was often left in charge of my sister and me. He was named after Father, and he turned out just like him. He was always honest, polite, decent, moral, and none of these things around anybody who wasn’t. Edith, my sister, was a lot nicer. She’s only five years older than me. Everyone called her Eddie, so some people would think we were three boys until they saw her. Eddie is definitely not a boy. She was always a dame and proud to be one. She was closer to Mother than Howard and I were, and she took her side when she and Father fought. She took my side when Father and I fought.

So, it started with Father, Mother, Howard, Eddie, and me. Mother was only around for a few years. She’s not dead or anything, at least, I don’t think she is. I don’t think she wanted to leave us, either. Father kicked her out of the house in the middle of the night. They’d been fighting over this and that for years. They’re so different that I have no clue why they got married in the first place. Father, as a cop, was a good cop, an upstanding citizen. He didn’t drink, he didn’t swear, he took us to church every Sunday, and he found it all so easy that he had very high standards for the rest of us. Howard was the only one who could ever meet them. Mother was her husband’s opposite in every way, though she tried to be good in front of the kids. Even when she lived with us, I rarely ever saw her. She was out at parties or playing cards with guests up in the attic. Most of the guests were men. 

I wasn’t even in school when Mother left. One night, she was in the attic with her men, and up until that day, Father had pretended he didn’t know about them. It was a normal night, so I don’t know why Father picked this night to give up on that bad idea of a marriage. Maybe I shouldn’t call it a bad idea, since I wouldn’t have been born if it hadn’t happened, but I don’t find it that odd to think of my own birth as a bad idea. Father seemed to think I was a mistake. For all I know, I wasn’t even his kid! Anyway, he yelled at her, she yelled back, and I expected him to strike her, but he didn’t. I don’t think he ever beat her. That’s not how you treat a lady. He drove her out of the house without letting any of us say “goodbye”. None of us were asleep. Even if we were, she could’ve woken us up.

After that, nobody could defy Father and get away with it. I tried. Eddie tried. It didn’t work out. I met plenty of kids who talked about their fathers getting drunk and beating them senseless, but Father didn’t drink. It was all planned out with him. He didn’t lose his temper. It was just a punishment. He used a belt for a whip, which I think is pretty common. The house had rules, and breaking those rules meant a certain number of lashes, usually a number matching our age, and as much as double that if we were really in trouble. Not saying “please” and “thank you” at the table meant six lashes when I was six. Fighting in school would mean nine, and getting caught stealing money meant twelve.

Fighting and stealing were what I got in trouble for the most. I never picked any fights, but no one ever wanted to know what actually happened when they caught me fighting back. I was just defending myself. Even in first grade, the other boys didn’t like me. I was a pathetic little kid: A short, weird crybaby who couldn’t beat a cripple in a foot race. I was shy when some boy asked my name on the first day. Being from New York, I, like everyone else there, don’t say rs as hard as people from other places do, so, that, along with nervous mumbling, led to “Wilmer” sounding more like “Wilma”. For the rest of the time I was in school, that’s what everyone called me, except for the teacher. When Howard found out, he started doing it to. I had to punch a few of them in the face to get them to leave me alone. 

Then, there was the stealing. I got an allowance for doing chores, but Father didn’t like the way I spent it, so he cut it down to nothing. He was with the crowd of church people who were upset with the pictures then. Even Howard liked movies, so he’d complain about it from time to time. I’ve never been one to just complain. If something’s wrong, I’m gonna fix it. If I wanted to see a movie, I’d see a movie. So, I found money. Howard still had an allowance, so I’d take from his, but he noticed and told Father the first time I did it. I’d steal from school or church, where there were plenty of suspects, so they wouldn’t know right away that it was me.

I always tried to see the movies Father would hate the most. He hated movies where gangsters and other criminals got away with theft and murder. He said it set a bad example for the public. So, whenever a movie that looked to be about crime was playing, I had to see it. There were always plenty of gangster pictures, murder mysteries, and westerns full of outlaws and revenge killings. I wished I could be like one of those guys, drive a fast car, shoot at cops, and just do whatever I wanted without having to give a damn if anyone complains.

Then, 1934 came along. That was a big year. The movies all started having criminals punished like Father wanted. That wasn’t a big deal, though. The reason it was a big year is that it was the year Eddie got married. Actually, it started off as the year Eddie got pregnant. She’d been spending more time away from home, avoiding Father like I’d been doing, but instead of going to picture shows, she went to her boyfriend’s place. He was older than her, and he had his own apartment. She spent as much time there as she could get away with. She really had no way to stop what happened, or to stop Father from finding out. He didn’t hit her for it. She was too old for it then, and it might’ve hurt the kid. He did make her marry the boyfriend, though. Howard held a gun to his head.

Now, I was the only one who still lived with Father. Howard was a grown man with a job. He tried to join the police force, but there was something about him that they didn’t like. At least, that’s what they told me. Eddie lived with her boyfriend and never visited. I don’t blame her. She was in bad health and her baby was born dead. She’d been forced to marry a man for nothing. She’d been seeing him for fun and for his looks. She didn’t love him. At least I could visit her. Well, I could until she met another man, fell in love for real this time, and ran away with him to Canada. Father disowned her for that.

I was all alone then, more than I’d ever been. About a month before I turned thirteen, I decided to leave home and find Eddie. Maybe her and her new man would take me in. She’d helped me before. If I was really in trouble with Father or Howard, she’d let me hide under her bed. It didn’t last long, but something about it made the punishment sting just a bit less. 

I knew that it wouldn’t be easy to get to Canada. Somehow, I got the bright idea to steal a car, thinking that’d make the journey easier. I took one of Father’s guns, thinking I’d be out of town before he noticed. I found a car that looked like one from a movie I’d seen that week, and I tried to threaten the driver, but I didn’t want to shoot him, and he wasn’t scared of a twelve year-old kid with his daddy’s gun. He called for the coppers and I tried to run for it while he was looking for a phone. I thought it would be thrilling to get in a chase with the cops, but it was harder than the pictures made it look and I was caught pretty quickly. That’s when I learned that my life wasn’t like some movie or a dime store novel. 

The men who arrested me knew Father, and they knew I was his kid. Father wanted nothing to do with me after that. I was sent off to a reform school, where I wasn’t reformed and didn’t get much of an education. Well, not in the way the judge who sent me there would’ve wanted. Because I messed up that theft so badly, and I was still pretty much a baby to them, I only got three years. Actually, I’m not sure if that was supposed to be a long sentence or a short one. It felt pretty damn long. I was stuck in a school that I couldn’t leave, surrounded by boys that hit harder than the ones I was used to.

Luckily, there were a few other stupid little boys in that place. I actually made some friends. We were a gang, making trouble together. Nobody was afraid of us, but everyone knew who we were, and most of them didn’t want to kill us. There was Robbie, the leader, Alfie, Freddie, Dash, Dwight, and Cookie, whose name was something else, but that’s what we called him. We had the same last name, but I don’t think we’re related. He took that name so I didn’t have to. Most of us had little nicknames, though most of our names counted as nicknames. We just didn’t care. Outlaws always seemed to have a lot of stupid nicknames. I was Midget. I was always freakishly short, so I got a nickname to match. Mine was one of the names that started as an insult some other guy called you, and then you stole it from him by just using that name. It was better than Wilma.

I’d love to stall for time by going into everyone’s nickname and where it came from, but it’s not important. What is important was that I was getting old enough to stop being a child. This was the time when girls entered the picture. But, they didn’t. I used to blame it one hitting that age in a place with no girls around, but, when I got out, nothing changed. It changed for most of the others, if they’d ever not liked girls to begin with. Dash, Dwight, and Cookie always liked girls. Alfie started liking girls when he started seeing them. Robbie, Freddie, and me, we were never like that. Maybe that’s why we became friends. Maybe we just knew, somehow.

It was pretty common for boys to mess around with each other when no one was looking. It was against the rules, of course, but when did we ever care about those? Nobody watched us at night, when everyone was asleep. If you were quick and kept quiet, you could get away with lots of things then. After I’d been there for maybe eighteen months or so, some of that stuff started to happen. Robbie was the leader of our gang, a few years older than me. He’d been honest about being queer from the moment I’d met him. He was a bold kid. He brought me into the group, tired of seeing me staring at the wall during my spare time. Since I was the youngest, he called me “baby” from time to time, which I hated at first, but eventually I just got used to it.

I was obsessed with Robbie for a while. He liked being the center of attention, so he let me follow him around like a dog all the time. Of course, sometimes he didn’t know that I was following him. My bed was right next to his, and if I couldn’t sleep, I’d often find myself watching him. I didn’t really mean to. My eyes always wandered his way if they had nothing else to look at. I woke up one night from a dream about him. I don’t remember the details, only that he was in it. I’d woken up in the middle of the night before, and I sometimes saw empty beds, or guys who seemed to think that everyone else was asleep and wouldn’t catch them with their cocks out. That night, I stupidly became one of those guys. 

Then, Robbie woke up. He rolled over and saw me. He almost laughed. I thought he’d be mad or something, since I was being such a creep, but he didn’t seem to care. I tried to get my pants back on and act like it didn’t happen, but he stopped me. He’d seen me touching myself, he knew I was looking at him while I did it, and that I was doing it on purpose, and went and got into bed with me and took over. If that counts as sex, then that would’ve been the first time I did it. 

Robbie and I got out at the same time, near the end of 1937. He had no place to go, so I took him home with me. Father had no sense of charity towards criminals, but Howard was so obsessed with being a good person at the time that he let us both stay in the spare room of his apartment. The apartment only had one spare bedroom, and that bedroom only had one bed, so he wasn’t suspicious about how close we were, at least, not at first. We got along fine for a month or two, and then we both got cocky and made a mistake. Even though we knew that Howard was in the apartment, we thought we could fuck quickly without him noticing. We had it all planned out.

I’m still not sure why Howard came to check on us. Maybe one of us was making more noise than we thought. Howard decided to call Father, not as a parent, but as a cop, since a crime had been commited under his roof. If we were at Father’s place, Robbie and I would both have gotten locked up. But, Howard didn’t care what strangers did. He just wanted to get at me. The worse I was, the better he seemed without having to try. He gave Robbie a chance to run and he took it. I don’t know what happened to him after that.

After Robbie left, while waiting for Father to arrive, Howard told me what would happen to me now. For once, he didn’t yell. He didn’t even seem upset. He whispered, even though he didn’t need to. I used to be scared of Father and Howard when they yelled, but I’d never been more afraid of either of them than I was at that moment. He said I’d go to prison, real prison, perhaps, and what that meant for me. He didn’t have much hope for my future, and after his speech, neither did I.

The whole time I was telling this story to Gutman, he stayed silent. This was the first point when he said anything.

“What did your brother tell you?”

I told him what he told me and moved on. It’s not important what Howard said. Even if it was, this was supposed to be about Father, not him. Maybe it’ll come up again later. 

I finished up the story, so I’ll finish it up here too. Howard wouldn’t let me out of his sight until Father arrived, so I had to wait and be arrested. He was angrier than Howard was. For three years, I’d been an embarrassment to him. If your job is stopping criminals, and you raise a criminal, it’s not gonna look good for you, but I already knew that. Even before I was arrested the first time, I’d been in trouble for little things and Father’s friends at work knew plenty about me. When Howard wanted to join the force, they were stuck between the good sign of him being the son of one of their own, and the bad sign of him being my brother. Father rarely brought up Howard at work. He complained about Eddie and he complained about me. If Howard wasn’t even worth mentioning, how good could he be? Father blamed me for Howard not being a cop, and so did he. Maybe they were just waiting for revenge.

So, I’d already cost Father his reputation, and I’d cost Howard his career. I’d already been arrested and done time, though this time, Father seemed determined that I be tried as an adult. I’d caused them too much trouble. This was the last straw. They wanted to be rid of me, hopefully for good. When he made the arrest, I realized that Father could’ve saved me, even if I was arrested. I was still young enough to be sent back to reform school. When I asked him why he wanted to throw me in with the adults, he said I’d committed an adult crime and deserved an adult punishment. He repeated the things that Howard said. Howard said he hoped I’d suffer. Father seemed to be planning on it. I couldn’t fight off grown men if they picked on me. He knew. I hated him, and I didn’t really expect him to give that much of a damn about me, but he was still my father. I could imagine hearing these things from some kid in school, some guy on the street, or even from Howard, but from Father…

Well, I got lucky and escaped. Father brought me to the car in bracelets, and then he saw a fight break out down the street. He ran to break it up, thinking I wouldn’t be able to get myself out of it. When he cuffed me, my hands behind my back, he probably thought I was struggling by grabbing back at him. I was actually just trying to figure out where he’d keep the key. I heard him put it away and could guess which pocket it was in. I kept him talking, distracted him, kept pretending to struggle, and grabbed the key off him without him noticing. He turned me around to throw me into the car, and he didn’t see that I had it. I waited for the right moment, which came earlier than I’d expected, somehow managed to unlock the bracelets, and then I was free to go.

I took the car and drove off, knowing I’d be harder to catch that way. After that failure three years ago, I was actually able to steal a car. I searched it and found a gun. It became one of my two favorites. I also found an overcoat, one that looked to be around Howard’s size, that had some change in the pocket. Maybe someone left it there after they were dragged into the station.

I did not expect telling this story to make me so emotional. I still couldn’t believe that my own father, even being the sort of man he was, would act like he did. If I’d been murdered in the cooler, he would have to share the blame. I started crying like I did when I was little. I didn’t cry when I was arrested. I hadn’t cried in years. It was telling the story that did it, for some reason. Gutman went and sat beside me on the sofa when he saw how upset I was getting. He didn’t touch me, even though he was closer than he really needed to be. I fell against him and buried my face in his shoulder. He put his arm around me and let me stay there. He held me close, and I didn’t back away. I don’t really think I noticed. I don’t remember much of what he said that night, but I can remember the very end.

“Now now, Wilmer. It’s alright. That won’t happen again. I promise.”


	3. The Countryside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get a bit weird...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 might take longer than the first 3, since it will be very hard to write. 
> 
> Well, enjoy this chapter. Writing this felt like writing the 1st chapter of a horror story.

Chapter 3

Everything was going pretty well until bombs started falling on us. It’s not like I didn’t notice that Britain went to war around the time I moved in with Gutman. I read the papers, I listened to the radio, I knew what was happening. I just didn’t care all that much. Well, it’s not that I didn’t care, it’s just that I didn’t know anyone in the countries we were at war with, and I didn’t want to think about the rumors I’d heard if I didn’t have to. So, when the Germans started bombing us, it was a bit of a surprise.

It was September again. I was a few months shy of 19, but I looked a bit younger and felt a lot older. Wartime rations were a bitch, and we couldn’t keep the lights on at night. Everyone said there’d be bombs, but I almost didn’t believe it. London was prepared for it though. There were sirens when air raids happened, and you could take shelter in the train stations underground. I’d slept in less comfortable places before, so it didn’t bother me. The air raids were almost fun after a while.

Gutman didn’t find the air raids fun. In general, he hated all the things we had to do to be prepared for war stuff. He hated turning off lights, having to stop whatever he was doing and go to a shelter without warning, and he wasn’t used to sleeping on the floor of a train station. I’m not sure why he didn’t suggest leaving when lots of people were leaving. It was November by the time he’d had enough.

“With things being how they are, I might not be able to go out for long enough to buy you a birthday present.”

“You buy me stuff all the time, anyway. I don’t care.”

“Wilmer, have you ever been out to the country?”

“In Britain or America?”

“Anywhere.”

“No. I’ve been in cities all my life.”

“Would you like to see the English countryside? I have a house out there, you know.”

“You’ve told me. That’s where Rhea is, right?”

“Yes. I haven’t seen her in far too long.”

“Then I guess we should go. Maybe some peace and quiet wouldn’t be so bad.”

I’ve never been the type to seek out peace and quiet. I don’t like to talk much, but I get bored if there’s nothing going on. I was mostly trying to humor him. He’d been complaining about the rations and bombs for months and I was sick of hearing it. So, the next morning, we left London.

I’m still not sure where we went when we left London. All those counties and villages probably have names, but Gutman never said. So, by the time we drove a good distance away from the city, I had no idea where we were. If I asked, he’d say the details weren’t important. Why not just tell me? Did he not want me to know where I was? I thought that was a bit weird, but I ignored it. I couldn’t think of any reason not to trust him. Still, I was kinda nervous about being out of the city for the first time. It was so quiet out there…

We stopped after what I think was an hour of driving to get a chance to walk around for a bit. Well, I did. I’m not sure why he wanted to stop. I paced around and he just watched, for once having nothing to say. I actually got sick of the silence.

“Is there any reason why we stopped here?”

“I was just enjoying the view.”

“The view of what? It’s November.”

“I just wanted to take a break from driving. I find it quite dull.”

“Well, how long are we gonna wait around here?”

“I don’t know. We’re in no hurry.”

“If you hate driving so much, couldn’t we have taken some sort of train out here?”

“My country house is many miles from the nearest train station. This way is far more efficient.”

“Not if we’re just gonna wait around here forever.”

“If you’re so anxious to leave this place, perhaps you’d like to drive.”

I’m not sure if he was being sarcastic there. But, I’d told him about my history of car theft, so he must’ve known that I liked driving, and that I was good at it, though no one ever taught me to drive. I’m good with guns and cars, and terrible with anything else. Though, if you do a thing for money, you gotta be good to get paid, so maybe I’m good at a few other things, but I don’t count that.

“Why not? I’ll drive.”

“Splendid! Let’s get going, then, if you’re so eager.”

So, I drove for the second half of the trip. Gutman told me which way to turn, still giving no hints about where anything actually was on a map, and I followed instructions until we got to the house. It was a nice house. It was big, but not like a palace or anything. If it wasn’t November, the garden probably would’ve been in bloom, and the grass would’ve been green. It was still a nice house, painted bright white, and a sunny day, even if I was a bit cold. New York in November was colder.

A servant of some sort greeted us at the door, taking coats and hats, weapons along with them, since I wasn’t able to get them out of my coat pockets and find somewhere else to hide them without making a scene. Gutman knew I had them. I kept two guns on me. One was the one I stole from Father’s police car, and the other was a gift from Gutman. It was one of many gifts. I left most of them in London, and I don’t want them back. I don’t know what happened to them. I don’t care what happened to them. The gun was the only one of those presents I kept with me when we left. I wanted to have two. I don’t like strange places, and the guns help, even if I don’t intend to use them. I feel safer when I have them, like I could actually get in a fight without having to worry. So, I was a bit nervous when they were taken away. I didn’t know where this guy was taking them. 

Right at the entrance of the house, there was this big staircase. When I first saw that staircase, a girl was slowly walking down the steps. She was a little thing with light hair and dark eyes. Those words could all fit me. She looked like she could be my sister, though she didn’t look like Eddie. People who didn’t know might think we were related or something. The dress she was wearing looked expensive, and not very modest. She wore this shawl over it, trying to cover herself up, or maybe just to block out the November cold. When she spoke to us, she stayed on the steps, not going down all the way to greet her father.

“Father? I wasn’t expected you.”

“There’s been a bit of an emergency. I’m sure you’ve heard about London on the radio.”

“No, I can’t get a good signal all the way out here, but with all the children leaving London, I did hear word that there was some sort of attack.”

“There are bombs falling now and again, but we’re doing well.”

The whole time she talked to him, she looked at me. It seemed like she was trying to guess who I was and why I was there. It also seemed like she didn’t want to even look at her father. She didn’t like him.

“And who are you?” She asked me. Gutman answered for me.

“This, Rhea, is Wilmer Cook. He’s become a good friend of mine in the city. Wilmer, allow me to present my daughter, Rhea Gutman.”

“Please, call me Rhea. I don’t care for formalities, and I don’t care for the name Miss Gutman or anything like that.”

“You can call me Wilmer. Everyone does.” I said, finally getting a chance to say something.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Wilmer. How, if I may ask, did you become acquainted with my father?”

“He helped me out and took me in when I was living on the street.”

“Really? How generous of you, Father!”

The way she said that made it sound like that wasn’t what she really meant to say. She knew more about her father than I did, and she wanted to know why he was being so generous.

“I hate to see young men like him having to fend for themselves on the city streets, resorting to crime and such to get by.”

“Oh. How long has he been staying with you?”

“A little over a year now, I believe.”

“That long? Wilmer, has Father been on his best behavior?”

She was teasing, but it sounded like she was looking for something. She watched me very carefully when I answered.

“I’m not sure what his best behavior is, but I’ve got no complaints. I hope he hasn’t been buying me more stuff than he buys you!”

“He sends me gifts all the time, believe me. What has he-“

Rhea was cut off by the sound of a bell that meant that dinner was ready. So, that subject took over the conversation. The food was really good. Gutman ate and talked forever, while I just ate. Rhea didn’t eat or talk. Something was bothering her. She hadn’t seen her father, her only family, in ages, but she kept her distance from him. She was polite, like you’d be with a guest or something, but she also seemed a bit shy, even around people she knew. I didn’t like my father, but I had a reason. She didn’t seem to like her father either, but what was her reason?

After dinner, the three of us went to the sitting room, where Gutman drank and talked, I just drank, and Rhea sat and did nothing. It was dinner all over again. I don’t think I got drunk, but I could’ve had a drink too many, since I wasn’t thinking as clearly as usual. Rhea left to go to bed quite early. She seemed really eager to get away from us. Maybe if I hadn’t been drinking, I would’ve noticed how weird that was. 

This entire trip was just too weird. Gutman wouldn’t let me know where we were, his daughter didn’t seem to like him much, and I had no idea where that servant put my damn stuff. I hadn’t been shown my room yet, so maybe they were sent there, but not knowing for certain was uncomfortable. When I asked Gutman about, he just told me not to worry without answering the question. He wasn’t answering many questions, if any. I thought it was annoying, but maybe I should’ve been worried more. I felt like I had no reason to be, so I just wasn’t. At this point, after living with him for a year, he was like family. I never really knew what that meant from experience, but this was what I’d thought it’d be like. This was everything I’d always wanted: A nice place, nice stuff, and a nice father who actually cared about me. I wasn’t gonna ruin that by picking at it too much.

Gutman was interrupted in the middle of a lecture, one that I wasn’t paying much attention to, by a servant with a letter. It had been sent to London, and people knew to redirect it out to the country. It was from Thursby and O’Shaughnessy. I hadn’t seen them in a while. Not long after I moved into Gutman’s place, they left England to find something for him. This little statue that he was obsessed with was supposed to be in Turkey, somewhere. He sent the couple off to track it down. He’d told me this long story about it. A long time ago, the King of Spain wanted yearly pay from Malta in the form of a falcon to go hunting with. For some reason, some knights over there decided to make a falcon statue out of gold and jewels, but it got lost on the way to Spain or something. Gutman had spent the past sixteen years, well, sixteen at the time, trying to track the thing down, for no other reason than that the little treasure hunt seemed like fun and the statue sounded like an interesting thing to have. I didn’t really get it, but I had no reason to complain. Anyway, Gutman was really happy about that letter.

“Miss O’Shaughnessy says she’s seen the falcon with her own eyes!”

“Really? Where is it?”

“Istanbul. It’s part of a collection of artifacts owned by a Russian general by the name of Kemidov.”

“I doubt he’ll want to part with it.”

“When he sees what I’m willing to pay him, it might change his mind.”

“So, are you gonna go to Istanbul and check it out?”

“As soon as it’s safe to return to London. You shall accompany me, of course.” 

It wasn’t an invitation, though I would’ve accepted if it was. It was almost a command, the way he said it. After that, the conversation began to change a little.

“Wilmer, there’s something about me that I’d like for you to understand.”

“Okay. What?”

“Well, I plan to buy the falcon from this General Kemidov, but, let me ask you this: What if he refuses to sell it to at any price?”

“Are you asking me for advice or something?”

“No. That was what is called a ‘rhetorical question’. I’ll answer it myself. You see, I’m not a man who’s easily discouraged when I want something. If Kemidov truly does have the falcon, then I shall either buy it from him, or take it from him. Miss O’Shaughnessy and Mr. Thursby have quite a bit of experience in that department. If I want it, and I do want it, I will get it. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I guess. I still don’t know why you’re bringing this up. I’ve got no problem with thieves, you know. Did you think I’d disapprove or something?”

“Of course not. It’s just important that you understand this about me: I get what I want, or I take it. I hate to have to resort to such things, but I won’t hesitate to do so.”

The whole time we were talking, he was on the sofa next to me. He was often like this, so I usually didn’t notice. But then, on that night, I noticed that he was sitting closer than usual, whispering to me, even though he didn’t have to. He’d been drinking, so I thought it was just the effect liquor had on him.

“Alright. I still don’t understand what this has got to do with me.” I said, hoping that he’d get to the point, if he even had one. 

“I want you to know this so that if you have something I want, you will know that it’s to your best interest to skip the trouble of arguing with me, and remember that I’ll do what I have to.”

All of a sudden, he was threatening me. At least, I think that was a threat. It spooked me a bit, but I thought I was silly for being scared. What could I possibly have that he wanted? Still, I didn’t feel very well after that.

“I get it. I’m tired. Can you show me where my room is?”

“Certainly. I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”


	4. Gunsel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where things get a bit fucked up. TW for the tags I've already marked this with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...Here it is. This was absolute hell to write. Since I assume it will probably be hell to read as well, chapters 5 and 6 have already been written and edited, and they'll be posted pretty much right after this one.

Chapter 4

I really don’t wanna talk about what happened next. I promised the guy who gave me this idea that I’d write down everything. He said it’d help. I’m not so sure of that, but I won’t break my promise, not to him. I’m not even sure how to talk about it. It was the worst night of my life. How do I even start? I feel like I’m just stalling now. I’m sorry.

I had my own room at that house, just so you know. I spent plenty of time there, and my stuff was waiting there for me. Well, most of it. The guns were missing. Anyway, I had a room at the house. I just didn’t stay there on the first night. I wanted to. That’s what I planned on doing. That’s what I thought I was going to do. Even after that threat, I still didn’t think anything bad was gonna happen. Well, it’s more like I didn’t want to believe it. When Gutman led me into a bedroom, one that wasn’t mine, I had to believe it.

I could tell right away that the room wasn’t mine. It didn’t look like a guest room. The bed had been made, but it dipped down as if a lot of weight had been placed on it. It’d been slept in, and it was easy to figure out who’d slept there. Yeah, it’d been a long time since it’d been slept in, but the dip was probably formed over time. I didn’t have much time to stand and look around, but I ended up in that room so many times over the next few months that I can remember it well enough. I can definitely remember the big armchair against the wall facing the foot of the bed. It could fit two normal-sized people. The bed looked like it could fit four. Everything was colored in warm red and brown, with some designs drawn in gold. It looked expensive, and like it should’ve been a warm, comfortable place. Strangely, it almost was, but only when I was asleep, and not thinking about it.

“Mr. Gutman, why are we here?” I asked, already knowing the answer, but still unwilling to believe that this was actually happening.

“Why do you think?”

“That thing you said earlier about if I had something you wanted. This is what you want, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You didn’t have to take me in, then. You could’ve just paid me. You know what I was doing for work when you found me.”

“Yes, I could have, but, I wanted you all to myself, and I knew I couldn’t have that just by asking, even if I paid you. What would be the point of paying you if you lived with me and I could easily buy you anything? Besides, winning you over made for an interesting challenge.”

“You haven’t won me over. Not like that.”

“I never expected you to. You’re so young, and I’m aware that my age and appearance do not naturally entice most people, especially ones like yourself. But, I’ve got you here. You have nowhere else to go, so you might as well accept what you’re given. I don’t want to force you, but if you force me to, I have ways of doing so. That wouldn’t be very pleasant for either of us.”

He put his arm around my shoulder and led me further into the room. I pushed him away, though I think he let me do it.

“No. You can’t make me.”

I tried to sound calm, but I was about ready to panic. This was happening. This was really happening. I’d trusted him. I believed his lies. I was such an idiot. He’d been planning this the entire time, probably. The second he saw me, he had a plan. He’d trapped me. Even as I tried to fight back, I knew I wouldn’t escape. I wasn’t ready to believe that either. 

Gutman didn’t say anything. He just tripped me and pushed me onto the bed. I tried to throw a punch at him, but he caught my wrist and twisted it, just to prove that he could. He had more fat on him than muscle, but I didn’t have much of either, and he was still stronger than me. I bit down on my lip to keep from making any noise. I didn’t want him to know how much he was hurting me, though he’d probably figured it out.

I still didn’t give in right away. If this had to happen, I planned on making him work for it. At least I could say I put up a fight. It didn’t last very long. He shoved me down again, pushing me into the mattress, and all he had to do was put enough weight on my chest that I couldn’t breathe. Then, he made it worse by kissing me, sucking the breath, what was left of it, out of me. I got dizzy and I couldn’t move. It was a really dumb way to be defeated, I know. When I was completely still, he backed off a bit and started taking off my clothes. I was exhausted, and I froze up in shock, letting him move me around like a rag doll. I was in my underwear by the time I had enough strength to speak again, but I was still out of my mind, and all I could think to do was complain.

“Hurts…”

“Yes, I know it does. But, that’s your own fault, you know. I warned you not to fight me, and you didn’t listen. Now, if I let you go, will you do as I say?”

I only had it in me to sit up a bit and nod. He smiled, almost laughing, and then got off the bed and sat down in the giant armchair. He just watched me lying there, waiting to be sure that I wouldn’t get up. I didn’t. It was pointless. I didn’t even feel like it. I just wanted to get it over with.

“Well? Aren’t you going to remove the rest of it?”

“Not unless I have to.”

“You have to. Don’t make me do it myself.”

I was naked thirty seconds later. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to give him as little to look at as possible. He didn’t seem to care, just watching me squirm, looking about ready to eat me alive. That’s what it always felt like when he had me like this. He couldn’t but his mouth on anything without it seeming like he wanted to eat it. It was like he actually was eating me alive, in a way. This was only the beginning. 

“Lie down. Keep your arms by your sides and don’t move them unless I tell you to.”

I just did what he asked, not even thinking. I closed my eyes to keep from seeing the look on his face. I felt the bed dip down when he got up on it. I noticed I was shaking, and I tried to stop. I couldn’t be scared. He’d know. I wouldn’t give him that. I couldn’t give him that. It happened anyway.

He went from coldly commanding me to being surprisingly gentle. He kissed me again, but he backed off when I didn’t respond. I was determined to play dead. Still, all he had to do to get me to shudder was to run his fingers over my chest.

“Are you nervous, Wilmer? You’ve done this before.”

“Shut up.”

He could only shut up by finding some other way to keep his mouth busy, so he went back to kissing me, not on the lips this time, but leaving a trail down my neck and across my chest. He starting getting a bit rough, nipping at the skin, actually biting me once or twice. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, this was doing for him. Now, thinking it over, I think he was messing with me. He didn’t want me to ignore him. Between home, school, reform school, and the streets, I’d gotten pretty good at ignoring pain. He knew that. So, he had to try something else.

He moved his hands and mouth over everything in reach, watching for what I reacted to. I didn’t know it at the time, but like I said before, I’ve had plenty of time to think it over. I kept trying to ignore him, but he put a stop to it by sucking on one of my nipples. He played with the other one with his fingers, so I couldn’t ignore one side by focusing on the other, or something. I focused all my attention on not making any noise. He couldn’t know that what he was doing was working, though it was probably too late for that. I failed. I didn’t moan or anything. I just gasped, and he could tell what it meant. He laughed, almost humming in a way that vibrated, before pulling back, replacing his mouth with the fingers of his other hand. He stroked them both, pinching them and moving his thumbs in circles.

“Not so bad, is it? Did you expect more violence? I don’t want to hurt you, Wilmer. You’re far too dear to me for that. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t adore you, you know. This doesn’t have to hurt. Am I hurting you?”

He waited for me to respond, so I had to.

“No…”

I had to open my mouth to talk and cut myself of with another embarrassing noise.

“I thought so. Now, turn around and lay on your front.”

So, that was where this was going. 

Let me explain something for anyone who’d actually want to read this and get this far without throwing it on a fire in disgust. Some of the things that queer men do aren’t exactly easy. Some things can take a long time. When someone is paying you for trade in a public toilet, you don’t exactly have a lot of time, so you stick to stuff that can be done quickly. So, by this point, I’d had a few cocks in my mouth before. I’d never actually been fucked in the ass. If anyone had tried, it wouldn’t have ended well. It might’ve even been impossible, for all I know. However, just because I hadn’t done it, didn’t mean that I hadn’t met people who had and discussed it in needlessly intimate detail. I knew what went into it. I wasn’t ready for this.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

I kept hesitating, so he figured out what my deal was.

“Haven’t you done this before?”

“You never have a lot of time on the streets.”

“I’ll be gentle. I promise. Now, turn over.”

I did, now wondering exactly how this was going to work. How much weight could he put on me before I started dying? I just laid there for a moment, and he just sat on the bed next to me, probably wondering the same thing. However, when he touched me again, all he did was grab my shoulders. He moved his hands down my spine and over my arms, pinching them a bit.

“You’re tense everywhere. You’re tense and you’re shaking. Are you afraid?”

“No.” I lied.

“It’s alright. We’ll take this very slowly. Unlike the men you’ve been with before, I’m in no hurry.”

For a while, he made no attempt to move things forward. He just wanted me to calm down. Maybe he was still worried that I’d fight him. Maybe I’d be easier to fuck if I wasn’t scared. Maybe this was just another way of messing with me. So, he just sat there with me, rubbing my back, whispering nonsense, and waiting until I almost fell asleep to get back to business.

“That’s it. Relax for me. That’s a good boy. I’m going to get you ready now. Get off the bed for a moment and lay over the side, but keep your feet on the ground.”

I got into the position he wanted, already starting to wake up again, and trying to hide that I was trembling a little when I walked. This whole thing was so humiliating. He stood behind me for a moment, and I didn’t think to turn my head to see what he was doing. Did it matter? A few seconds later, I felt his finger trailing down between my buttocks and forcing itself inside me. As far as I could tell, it went in dry, so it hurt more than it should’ve. His fingers, like the rest of him, were thicker than most people’s. Each one seemed nearly twice the size of a normal person’s. That certainly didn’t help. 

I didn’t even notice at first, but I was squirming to get away from him. If I couldn’t handle this, then I sure as hell couldn’t handle what would happen after. Gutman didn’t like this. He brought his free hand down on my ass hard enough for it to sting. Something about that just turned me to stone. I stopped moving, but I was far from relaxed.

“Stay still.”

He didn’t have to tell me. He pushed and pulled his finger in and out of me, twisting it around from time to time, until I seemed to get used to it. I never did. He took his finger out and reached his arm around me. He pushed two fingers against my lips until I let them in. Let’s not go into how disgusting this was, considering where one of those fingers had been, unless they were both different fingers, which is possible, I think, but I managed not to throw up. Not then and there. 

So, he was just slicking his fingers with spit, which seemed to dry up before it could do anything useful. I doubt that he couldn’t have done better. If he’d planned out getting me into his bed so well, he could plan out what he’d do when he got me there. He was lying, like he always did, when he said he didn’t want to hurt me. That was easy to guess, but I’d thought he just didn’t care. No, he wanted to hurt me. It was funny to him. Either that, or this was some form of punishment for the times I struggled with him.

Two fingers were twice as bad as one, but it’d be pointless just to describe the same shit all over again, so I’ll skip that. I don’t want to be stuck writing about this forever. Anyway, he decided that I was as ready as I’d ever be, so there was another pause while he took off some of his clothes. I never saw him completely naked. Thank God. I don’t think he wanted to be seen. He just took off what he needed to to fuck me and that was it.

I don’t want to admit it, but I promised not to lie, so I’ll admit it. I screamed when he entered me. He had to move slowly, but that didn’t help. Even the small amount of weight he put on me was testing the limits of my spine, and even if that wasn’t a problem, he was ripping through my insides. What he’d done before wasn’t close to enough. He got stuck several times, and I could tell that I’d be bleeding when this was over. You can’t exactly put a bandage on something like that. Well, he thrust into me a few times before getting worn out and deciding to do it a different way. From then on, he’d sit in that big armchair, and I’d have to sort of impale myself in his lap. I did most of the work, not like I had much of a choice, while he played with me, moving his hands over my chest and thighs and stroking my cock, determined to get me off, for whatever stupid reason he had. I hated it. And yet, I still had to enjoy it a little. It felt like he was finding ways to fuck my mind along with my body.

When it was over, and it took a long time, he fell asleep in his chair, and I got up, only having enough strength to fall into the bed across from it. I blacked out as soon as I hit the mattress. When I woke up, it was still mostly dark out and Gutman was still asleep. I grabbed my clothes off the floor and found a bathroom to take a shower. When I got up, I noticed that there were red stains on the bed where I’d been sleeping. I could still feel the broken skin they came from. When I was in the shower, unable to feel clean no matter how hard I tried, feeling like a mess inside and out, that was when I threw up.


	5. Rhea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't get better, but they don't really get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a filler chapter to avoiding the story just teleporting to Istanbul all of a sudden. If you don't care about pacing, and would rather skip to the more pleasant chapter 6, that's fine.

Chapter Five

Since I still didn’t know where my room was, I only had the clothes I’d shown up in. They hadn’t been damaged by what happened the night before. They were just wrinkled from having been thrown in a pile on the floor. I hate that. But, at this point, I just wanted to be covered by something.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Rhea was there. She looked like she’d been waiting for me. She was still in pajamas, her hair was a mess, and she had dark circles under her eyes, meaning that she hadn’t slept very well.

“Good morning, Wilmer.”

“Good morning, Rhea.”

There was a moment of silence. Whatever she had to say, she wasn’t quite sure how to say it.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I wanted to tell you. I just didn’t know how. Father was always there and he’d have killed me if I tried to warn you. Well, I don’t actually know what he would’ve done, but I couldn’t risk it. You know what he’s like.”

“Okay, exactly what did you want to warn me about? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“My room is across the hall from the one Father saved for you. I went to bed well before you did and listened for half the night. I never heard footsteps. You were never there. I was suspicious when Father brought you here, but that confirmed it. You were with him last night, weren’t you?”

“It wasn’t my idea.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. I know my Father. I know the sorts of games he plays with people. He lied to you. He lies to everyone!”

“He’s done this before?”

There was another moment of silence while she searched for the right words.

“No. Not that I know of. But, from the things I do know of, this is just like him. I’d rather not keep talking about it. I’ll show you to your room. You must be very tired!”

She led me to the room I should’ve spent the night in and I slept through half the day to make up for lost time. It wasn’t easy sleep. It took nearly an hour to get comfortable, not because of the bed, the bed was fine, I just still felt like a mess. Some of it was probably just in my head, but a few aches and pains came from something real. When I finally got to sleep, I kept waking up, nervous about where I’d find myself.

After the third time I woke up nearly screaming, Rhea showed up. She felt so bad about what happened that she just couldn’t get it out of her head, and she kept coming back to check on me. I wasn’t mad at her for not telling me, as I told her over and over. There was nothing she could’ve done, but she was as crazy as I was, so she had to blame herself for whatever happened to her or anyone around her. Anyway, she kept trying to get me to talk, not just about the last night, but also just in general. She hadn’t seen someone close to her age in a very long time.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Is there anything you do want to talk about?”

“No.”

“Is there anything you’re willing to talk about for my sake?”

“Probably not.”

“Will you let me talk, then?”

“Fine.”

She had a lot to say and a lot of time to say it. It was only towards the end that I started saying anything back, so I’ll just sum up the first part. Gutman had been traveling the world on and off since she was born, so, he often pulled her from school and took her traveling. She’d been to Malta, Spain, and France at some point or another. When she wasn’t traveling, they both lived in the city together. The room I’d been staying in was hers. She didn’t leave any trace of it. Then, not long before I met him, Gutman just left her in the country and took off. He didn’t even bother to send her back to school. She never mentioned her mother, or what it was like growing up how she did, with who she did. 

“I did like to travel, as long as I was outside and not alone with him. Father has some interesting friends. Have you met any of them?”

“I met a guy that said he worked for him. I think his name was Thursby.”

“Floyd Thursby? Was there a woman with him?”

“Yeah, almost all the time. I can’t quite remember her name. It was pretty long.”

“Did she have red hair?”

“Yeah.”

“Brigid O’Shaughnessy. Nobody knows very much about her. Mr. Thursby’s told me his entire history, but I’ve heard nothing from her. She’s interesting. I believe she can get any man to do anything she wants. I wish I could figure that out. I’d love a bit of control over the men in my life. I don’t mean you, of course. Queer men don’t count. She has no control over them!”

“It’s clear where that control comes from, then. Are you sure you wanna be that type of girl?”

“I’ll be whatever type of girl I need to be. I could get used to nearly anything if I wanted to.”

“Sure you could.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Yeah, not on purpose.”

“It happens to anyone in trouble. You’ll probably see for yourself soon enough.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’ll get used to living here. If you don’t, you’ll go mad and kill yourself.”

“How could I possibly get used to this?”

“You’ll have to.”

Those last three words stuck with me, because, in a way, she was right. I never liked being there, obviously, nor was I really okay with it. I’d like to say I just stopped caring, but that isn’t quite true either. It’s hard to explain. I guess it all became it’s own twisted form of normal. Maybe, it’ll be easier just to go on about what actually happened and work from there.

So, Rhea followed me around for the rest of that day, especially when it started getting dark. Gutman showed up again around dinner time, and I couldn’t just act like nothing was wrong. He talked on and on as if nothing had changed. It seemed like the way he was acting implied what Rhea said. I’d have to get used to it. This was my life now.

I spent that night in my own room. Gutman went to bed early without saying anything to me. I tried to think of any possible way to get out of where I was. Nothing was stopping me from just running away, but, where would I go? I had no idea where I was, or how to get back to civilization, and I’d have to leave without my guns, without food, without water, without anything but the clothes on my back. I’d just get lost in the middle of nowhere and starve or get eaten by wolves or something. Are there wolves in the English countryside? I didn’t want to risk it.

I could try fighting. Even without my guns, I could probably find a way to kill Gutman. But, if I did, the servants would be around as witnesses, and I’d probably get arrested for murder, and I’d rather risk wolves than prison. No, that wouldn’t work either. I spent that night thinking of every way to hide, fight, or run, and none of them was a good plan. I wore myself out thinking soon enough.

The next few days were more of the same. Nothing that happened then hadn’t happened before. Gutman dragged me into his room a few more times, but he didn’t want as much as he wanted the first time. He sat in his chair and had me sit on the floor in front of him, and I could pretend it was just another job. Then, I’d remember that I wasn’t getting paid for it, but it started to feel more disappointing than anything else. So, several days went by, I did what I was told, I talked to Rhea, I slept, and I tried not to go insane, which turned out easier than I thought it would. Maybe Rhea was right. I was getting used to it, though I wasn’t being given a lot to get used to. 

Of course, that didn’t last all that long. No one had anything to actually do out in the middle of nowhere. That included Gutman. He started joining Rhea and me during the day, just talking and taking up space. We’d hide from him, but he’d find us. Outside of his room, Gutman treated Rhea and me just the same. It’s like we were both his kids. That only made things worse. But, we could do our best to avoid him, and he knew when he wasn’t welcome, though he’d ignore it if he felt like it.

It turned out that he didn’t like us running off alone too much. I couldn’t get away by myself, but Rhea and I could’ve thought of an escape plan. We didn’t, but we could’ve. Anyway, he never really explained that he was punishing us for avoiding him, but I think that’s why he did what he did next.

To make matters worse, he did it on my birthday. We’d only been out there for a week or two, and it was still November. Gutman actually arranged a bit of a celebration, and let me have and do pretty much whatever I wanted for most of the day. I thought that, as a good birthday present, he’d leave me alone for the night, but he didn’t. Instead, he did something weird.

“Wilmer, will you follow me, please?”

“Stop asking. You know I don’t have a choice.”

Rhea got up to run for cover, but he stopped her.

“Rhea, you too.”

“What?”

“You’re coming with us.”

Neither one of us could believe what was happening. I had no idea what he planned to do. She was his daughter, unless there was something I didn’t know about, but he’d treat me like a son one minute, and a bitch the next, so maybe he didn’t care.

The best I can say is that he never touched her. Having her there was more about me, anyway. He settled into his chair like normal, but Rhea and I stayed at the door. I knew what I was supposed to do, but I wasn’t used to having company. She had no idea what she was supposed to do, obviously. We just stood back and waited for orders.

“Wilmer, what are you just standing there for? Come here.”

My feet just seemed to move on their own, knowing the way. I tried to keep from looking back at Rhea, but I was still worried about what he might do to her.

“Rhea, come on in and make yourself comfortable” He said to her.

“There’s no way to be comfortable in here.”

“Get in here and sit on the edge of the bed. Stop looking and me like I’m going to hurt you. I’ve never laid a hand on you. Get in here.”

She did what she was told, moving very quickly. Gutman turned his attention back to me.

“Wilmer, why are you still dressed? You know what you’re supposed to do.”

“With her in here?”

He just sat and waited for me to give in and follow orders. 

I gave in and followed orders. I couldn’t help looking back at Rhea, and something about the look on her face seemed strangely familiar. It didn’t take long to figure out what it was. I’ve mentioned before that I had a sister back at home. Whenever I got in trouble when I was little, and Father found out, she’d hide me under her bed. She stopped doing it when Father saw her. He seemed to think that I chose to hide there, but after he saw her helping me, aiding a criminal, she was in trouble too. 

I was nine or ten. Eddie was already basically a woman. Father dragged us both into the living room. Howard wasn’t there. That was the only good thing about it. I don’t remember what I’d done to get in trouble in the first place. Father gave the sentence. He planned on lashing me twenty times. Whatever I’d done, it must’ve been big. Eddie tried to leave, but Father ordered her to sit down. Her punishment was to watch. If she did it again, she’d be lashed too, but this was a warning. He lashed me with his belt, hitting my bare back, ass, and legs. I cried, but I tried to be quiet. I didn’t want to scare her. She begged him to stop. From where she was, she could see the red marks the belt was leaving. Father and Eddie yelled at each other for some time, while I couldn’t even get off the floor.

I’d told Gutman that story at some point. He knew. I’d made him mad and he was using it against me. I couldn’t look Eddie in the eye for weeks after that one time. He wanted to split us up, and he knew it would work. The bastard…

He didn’t really have me do anything I hadn’t done before. It’s not really necessary to go through all the details. There was only one difference. He had me face him. I wasn’t looking at Rhea, but she was looking at me from the back. In his own sick way, he matched up his actions with the story. I don’t exactly know what she could see from where she was. Maybe she could see his cock moving in and out of me. I hope it wasn’t as bad as I imagined.

I was stuck in Gutman’s room for the rest of that night. I didn’t get much sleep. I didn’t want to know what would happen if I did. I’d been having some pretty disturbing dreams ever since I left London. When I woke up, the details became fuzzy, so I can’t just write them down here. I can remember bombs, sirens, cannibals roasting people alive with hands made of fire, and, worst of all, the inside of a prison cell. I think I was covered by the shadow of a giant.

Dreams are stupid. They’re just a bunch of random pictures that don’t mean anything. But, it still bothered me. In Europe, before the war, some guy seemed to study the pictures of dreams, so somebody thought they meant something. I’ve done a lot of traveling with someone from there, and he seems to believe it. Considering how he interprets what I tell him, I don’t think I want to believe in that stuff. 

If you’ve made it this far, you might’ve noticed that I keep bringing up this guy, the one who wanted me to write this. Yeah, that guy and the dream-reading guy are the same guy. I said I’d talk about him at some point, and I will. I still hadn’t met him yet at the time I’m talking about, but, I met him only a few months later.

Anyway, when I woke up the next morning, Gutman was lying next to me, just watching me sleep, or something. He’d done it a few times before, this didn’t disturb me as much as it should’ve. I tried to turn over to keep from looking at him, but he grabbed my shoulder and stopped me.

“Good morning, Wilmer.”

“Morning. Can you let go of me, please?”

“Not yet. I’d like to talk to you. I want to apologize for what I did last night. I humiliated you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Apologize to Rhea, not me.”

“Could you maybe send her my apologies?”

“Could you maybe leave me alone?”

“Wilmer, I’m not going anywhere, and you’re not going anywhere. It’s something you’ll have to get used to.”

Rhea and her father both wanted me to just get used to things. But, that seemed like insanity. I couldn’t. 

“Why should I get used to it?”

“For your own sake. Staying close to me has its advantages, you know.”

“Like what? More shit that I don’t need?”

“No. My money and status are easily exploited as a way of avoiding criminal charges. If you want to avoid prison, than I can certainly make sure of it. I promised, remember?”

“That was before we came here.”

“That doesn’t make any difference. This is a basic situation of trade. You give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want, and what you want is safety. No matter what I ask of you, you’ll find me far more reasonable than whoever you’d meet in prison. I’ll be gentle with you, if you behave. I don’t you’ll get such an offer from violent criminals. Now, am I really so bad that you’d rather take your chances with them?”

“I guess not.”

“Wilmer, if you behave, if you follow my orders, if you stop fighting with me, I’ll keep you safe. Now, do you understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now, go and see if Rhea is awake, will you?”

I got up without a word and left. As I walked down the hall, I realized that I felt nothing. I wasn’t happy, or even content. I felt nothing. I’d always wanted to feel nothing. If it meant staying out of jail and not wanting to scream or cry, maybe I could get used to it. I was probably going mad, but only because I needed to.


	6. Joel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot decides to progress to Istanbul. Wilmer makes a friend. He definitely needs one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after the horror of chapter 4 and the depression of chapter 5, something good finally happens! I'm still planning out the next few chapters, so they might take longer than normal, but I've already started writing chapter 7, so maybe it can be posted by itself.

Chapter Six

It didn’t take long for Gutman to get bored of the country and decide that it was safe to travel to Istanbul. It only took until January. If you want to know what Christmas was like that year, there’s not much to talk about. Traditionally, on Christmas, masters and servants switched places, which Gutman interpreted in a way that worked with what he’d had me do. It was disappointing. I have no more to say about it.

The journey back to London, and sailing to Istanbul were both pretty uneventful. Gutman left me alone while we were traveling, possibly because there were other people around, and I could’ve told them something. Turkey was neutral in the war, and we were on a Turkish ship, so we stopped in a few places to get more passengers. Not knowing what sort of people we might get, I tried to avoid them. There were no Germans, since Germany wasn’t near the sea. But, there were a few Italians, and they were in with them. I shouldn’t have had any real reason to be afraid. They didn’t know me. But, from what little I knew, these people were killers, and not even the fun kind. I wanted nothing to do with them.

In Istanbul, we met up with Thursby and O’Shaughnessy again. They’d been waiting for us. They had another guy with them. What was that about? I found out soon enough, since the guy introduced himself right away, handing out what I think was some kind of business card that smelled a bit like sandalwood. How do you make a business card smell like sandalwood?

“I don’t believe Miss O’Shaughnessy has alerted you to my presence. My apologies for being unexpected. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Joel Cairo, an old friend of Miss O’Shaughnessy. She has requested my assistance in obtaining a certain statuette. She promised me an equal portion of the profits, but I assume that that is to be your decision.”

His accent was foreign, though I couldn’t tell you from where. His voice was soft and pleasant to listen to. Well, that’s how I heard it. It’s actually pretty hard to say anything about him, since I’m not even sure of some it. I’ve known him for a year, and he still won’t tell me where he’s from. Greece, maybe. He has darker skin, fitting in in Turkey, but a better match to pictures I’ve seen of Syria or Palestine. I’ve heard it called “Levantine”, and that’s the Levant, so that’s what I’d assume. He isn’t from there, though. He’s from somewhere in Europe. He just looks a bit different, which is one of the reasons why he left. Even if he wasn’t queer, they’d get him on something. It might just be the color of his skin, or he might actually be whatever they think he is. Jewish? Romani? He’s not quite that dark. Look, I still don’t know. He won’t talk about it.

And yeah, he’s obviously queer. He looks and sounds it. He even smells it. Most guys don’t smell of much. Sandalwood wasn’t very common, though it wasn’t exactly lavender. Sometimes, he’ll switch sandalwood, or chypre, as he calls it, for gardenia, which is a bit much. I actually kind of like the sandalwood thing, though mostly because it seems unique to him. 

If it’s not clear already, he’s alive. He was the guy who wanted me to right this. I told you I’d get to him. 

Joel noticed me right away. The other two were pretending I wasn’t there, even though they’d met me before. Before Gutman responded to anything he said, he turned to me.

“And who are you? I see that Mr. Gutman also brought someone unexpected.”

“Wilmer Cook. You can call me Wilmer. Everyone does.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Wilmer. May I ask what your role is in all of this?”

“I wish I knew.”

He looked confused for a second, turned to Gutman, and then back to me. 

“Well, whatever the reason, you’re welcome anyway.”

The introductions and small talk continued from there, as Rhea was introduced, and everyone learned that they were staying at the same hotel. Istanbul was the only place where that happened. He kept talking as we went back to the hotel. Well, the others talked. Rhea and I stayed pretty quiet.

At the hotel, Gutman left the rest of us alone while he took a nap. Instead of going back to their rooms, Joel, Thursby, and O’Shaughnessy stayed around, having nothing better to do, and it being too early in the day to go out drinking, though, in Istanbul, we drank more coffee than booze, anyway. They’d clearly known each other for quite a while, so they had a lot to talk about. Rhea chimed in a few times and they humored her. I just stared off into space. I didn’t expect anyone to notice, but someone did.

“Wilmer, would you like to join us? You’ve been very quiet.” Naturally, it was Joel who noticed. 

“I’m not talkative.”

“I can see that. I don’t mean to be rude, but if you don’t wish to speak to anyone, why are you still here, and not in your room, or anywhere else?” 

The truth was that the rooms in that hotel were a bit small. There were only two bedrooms. I’m lucky this only ever happened once. The rooms ended up separated by sex, so, I couldn’t be alone in my room, and in that case, it was better to stay close to the group.

“I’m fine here.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Why do you need to know so badly?”

“Why are you so hesitant to tell me anything?”

“I’ve told you everything. It’s no big deal. I think it’s normal.”

“What’s normal?”

I’d started just babbling about my issues, and I’d clearly let something slip.

“There are only two bedrooms here. There’s nowhere to be alone. That’s normal, right? It shouldn’t upset me.”

“Why does it upset you?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?”

“I know everything about everyone else here, already. I want to know about you.”

“You don’t know about Rhea, either. What makes me so special?”

“You’re troubled. You’re troubled and I’m bored, so I might as well find a problem to solve. It’s a way to, as you say, kill the time.”

I’d felt mostly nothing over the past few months, but it seemed like he was trying to break that down, which was annoying, but a part of me wanted it to happen. Besides, he was the least threatening guy I’d ever seen. So, I indulged him. The others had gone back their conversation and were ignoring us.

“Fine. We can talk.”

“How about we go outside, so that there are no interruptions.”

“Good plan. Let’s go.”

I was already alright with being alone with him. I can’t explain my own actions. He sounded trustworthy, but so did Gutman, at first. Maybe it was no more complicated than that I liked the look of him. He was interesting. His look was interesting, his clothes so well put together, lighter colors making his skin look even darker, like he wasn’t afraid of how that’d make him look to the wrong people. His voice was interesting, impossible to place and almost hypnotic at times. Even his scent was interesting, but I’ve already written about that. I just couldn’t look away from him. There’s nothing or no one like him anywhere.

I keep getting off-topic thinking about all this. If you knew Joel Cairo, maybe you’d understand. 

We left the hotel building and turned around a corner to where there weren’t many people, though we weren’t completely alone. He offered me a cigarette, and for a few minutes, neither of us said anything. I was starting to wonder why we’d bothered to come out here, when he finally spoke up.

“I know that I’m still a stranger. You have no reason to tell me anything. But, I’d still like to hear what you’re willing to tell me.”

“Why don’t you say something about yourself first? Then, it’ll be a fair trade.”

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

“Is your name really Cairo?”

“Cairo is a city in Egypt. When I decided to change my name, that was where I was.”

“What were you doing there?”

“I had to leave home, I had to leave Europe, so I talked my way on to the first ship I could find, and the ship just took me to Alexandria. From there, I took a boat down the Nile to Cairo.”

He ran away from home, boarded the nearest ship, and just ended up in a random city. We actually had something in common.

“That’s like how I got to London from New York! I was gonna get arrested, but I got away and just hid on a boat and ended up there.”

“So, did you meet Mr. Gutman in London, then?”

“Yeah.”

I decided not to say any more about him.

“What sort of a man is he? Since I’m going to be working for him, I’d like to know.”

Of course, he wouldn’t let me.

“He’s not bad.” I lied.

“That’s not very specific.”

“Does it have to be?”

“No. I thought you’d have more to say.”

“I told you before. I’m not talkative.”

“You were a moment ago.”

“Okay, Gutman’s not the best boss in the world. He probably won’t bother you, though.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Can you stop asking stupid questions?”

He shut up for a moment. I can’t read minds, so I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He spoke very slowly when he started talking again, still searching for the right words.

“I apologize if I upset you. This isn’t a subject you like to talk about. I don’t like talking about my home country. We both have our reasons, I assume.”

“Yeah. Can we go inside now?”

“If you’d like to.” 

I normally would’ve asked if I could go, so he could maybe finish his smoke or something. But, even though I didn’t really want to talk anymore, I still wanted him around. After what happened the last time I trusted a guy who wanted to know everything about me, I knew better than to get too close. Of course, this was different. If Joel had the same idea that Gutman had had, I wouldn’t have minded. So, if some guy wanted to pretend to give a damn about me in hopes of getting a free lay, as long as I liked the look of him, I’d let him pretend. 

It never crossed my mind that he could’ve been honest about giving a damn. At least, not yet. I wasn’t sure if it was human nature to care about someone without a reward attached. I mean, everything has its price, doesn’t it? 

When we got back to the room, Gutman was there and Thursby and O’Shaughnessy had gone back to their place. This shouldn’t have surprised me, and it didn’t, but it startled me at first. I felt like I could’ve gotten in trouble for something. 

“Wilmer! There you are! When I woke up, you weren’t here. I was wondering where you’d gone off to.”

He didn’t seem to notice that Joel was in the room. I couldn’t ignore him. Having him there made the whole thing even more embarrassing. What if Gutman tried something in front of him, just because he could?

“I was just outside with Cairo.”

He looked at Joel for a second, now deciding that he was worth paying attention to. However, he still only spoke to me, though he looked at him the whole time he did it.

“Oh. Well, if you don’t mind, the next time you decide to disappear on me like that, I’d appreciate it if you told me first.”

Joel spoke before I could.

“I apologize, Mr. Gutman. I assumed that Wilmer, when not under any specific orders, was allowed to move freely without needing permission. Even so, you were asleep. We didn’t want to wake you.”

“That’s quite alright. I understand. Now, it’s getting quite late. Would you mind returning to your own rooms, Mr. Cairo?”

“Of course not. I’ll see you tomorrow, if you have any orders for me. Good night. Good night, Wilmer. I hope to find the time to talk to you again.”

He looked at me when he said that, of course. But, I could swear to he looked at Gutman again for a split second afterward. What was he up to? Well, I know now. I didn’t know then.

“Good night, Mr. Cairo.”

“Call me Joel, please. I hope that you might consider me a friend.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Joel.”

I had no problem considering him a friend, or at least imagining him as one. I really needed the distraction.


	7. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilmer gets to know Joel a bit better, while also probably going insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared for disturbing acts of violence.

Chapter Seven

Since he took a nap earlier in the day, Gutman wasn’t as tired as I was on the first night in Istanbul. He’d left me alone for weeks of travel, and now he wanted me again. I was tired. I wasn’t thinking very clearly. I thought that I could get him off me for one more night.

“Could we do this tomorrow night? I’m about ready to pass out.”

“Wilmer, you’re the one that usually says that you don’t have a choice. You know that. It’s been far too long as it is. I’ve missed you, you know.”

He reached out and stroked the side of my face, being very gentle, but I knew he could switch to leaving bruises at any second. My head felt heavy, so it tilted down, but he forced it back up so I had to look him in the eye.

“You’ll stay awake until I’m done with you. Look at me. You’ve promised to do as I say. I’ve kept my promises to you. If you break your promise, then I’ll have to break mine. I’d hate to leave you alone on the streets of Istanbul, so far from home, but you figured out London, so maybe you’ll make do.”

“Maybe I’d be better off without you, anyway.”

“No, you wouldn’t be. I’d leave you with no weapons, no supplies, and no place to go. Just like back at home, I’m the lesser of two evils, am I not? Besides, if you get in trouble out here, I’ve heard the Turkish prisons might be worse than the American ones.”

“I’m not trying to get you off me for good. Just for tonight. Please.”

It didn’t take long for him to reduce me to begging. I already knew that I stood no chance of winning this argument, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“You know how much I hate arguing with you. It’d be so much easier for us both if you stopped struggling with me. You know by now that when I get upset, it has ways of showing. I don’t want that to happen, and I really don’t want to lose you.”

And there he was again, switching from warm to cold to warm. I could never keep track of it. I didn’t like fighting him any more than he liked fighting me. I could still remember that only a few months before, I actually believed he cared for me, that he could replace my terrible father. He could still speak in the voice of that man I’d met in London, and it wore on me when he did. I wanted that. I wanted to go back to that. I was safe for once in my life. 

So, that’s why I gave in and let him do as he liked. 

He kept up the gentle act for the rest of the night, giving me time to get used to him, and an orgasm that I didn’t even want. It just made it worse. This could’ve been my fault, though I don’t really know what I did, because I’m an idiot.

The whole time, he whispered to me about how “good” I was being. It made me feel like a damned dog. “Sit down”, “Stay here”, “Turn over”, “Good boy!”. And I’d been trained, since I did all of it, almost happy to hear the nonsense praise I got for it. That’s what it means to be a bitch. He even petted me, stroking my hair as I fell asleep.

Joel, Thursby, and O’Shaughnessy all had jobs to do, but Gutman decided whether I’d go with them or not on a whim. It was the same way with Rhea. She’d often just wander around the city by herself. I wonder if she was involved in something. I mostly stayed with the group as they spent days just trying to find this Kemidov guy, who must’ve gotten caught up in something that taught him how to hide. All I knew was that he was Russian and a general. I think he fought during the last war. Then, he must’ve done something that got Stalin out for blood. That would explain why he was so damn hard to find. If you need to hide from the Russian government, hiding from some guys who want a nice statue you have probably isn’t that difficult by comparison.

When we weren’t working, we were drinking. Sometimes, we went to bars, other times, Gutman would just buy stuff and we’d just drink in our hotel room. Everyone got involved in conversations, since everyone had some pretty crazy stories to tell. Gutman had chased this dumb statue for seventeen years, Rhea passed the time at home by playing jokes on servants, Thursby was a bodyguard for a St. Louis mob boss and gambler, O’Shaughnessy had a long history of one-night stands with all sorts of interesting men, Joel had spent the past five years as a traveling con artist, and I had a few stories from reform school to throw in. Still, I talked less than everyone else did. I only said anything when someone asked me a question. Everyone had several questions.

The more drunk everyone got, the sillier the stories sounded. Some of us, mostly Gutman and Thursby, told jokes. I eventually found out that Joel and O’Shaughnessy had a competition going to see who could get me to laugh at something, since they both thought I was far too serious for my own good. I had good reasons not to be in a laughing mood, but I wasn’t just gonna tell them that. Later on, I learned that those two have a habit of fighting over men. I’m not sure if I like being fought over. I was getting too much attention to begin with.

One night, after we’d been in Istanbul for a bit more than a week, Gutman roped me into sitting next to him on the sofa during one of these little drinking parties. He got a bit drunk, so he got a bit careless and started touching me way too much. Rhea noticed right away, but I didn’t care. She already knew. But, when the others started noticing, I started to nearly panic. I didn’t really know what they’d think of it. Thursby would probably find it funny, O’Shaughnessy might pity me a little, but I couldn’t guess what Joel would think. Maybe I was too nervous to think straight. All I know is that Gutman kept hugging me, people were looking at me, and I tried to get away, just to save whatever dignity I had left. He dragged me back, and pretty much pulled me into his lap in front of everyone.

Eventually, he let me go, though it was now obvious that something was happening, and letting me leave wouldn’t change that. Istanbul in January is actually a bit cold, though not enough to snow. When I ran away, I forgot my overcoat, so it was pretty uncomfortable. Still, I’d rather have slept out there on the sidewalk than go back to Gutman. Sitting curled up against the wall, I must’ve looked like a bum, but I didn’t care. I’d lived on the streets. I’d been a bum before.

I wasn’t really surprised that someone went after me, nor that it was Joel. He was always trying to get me to talk to him, and it usually worked. I was a bit surprised by the way he went about it then. He called out to me, and when I looked up, he slowly walked up to me and sat down across from me, so our eyes were at the same level. He spoke in a whisper, so strangers wouldn’t overhear.

“I know.”

I was actually a bit confused over what he meant by that.

“What?”

“He doesn’t pay you for it, does he?”

“What are you saying?”

“I think that the others might know, but they won’t say anything.”

“Why are you saying something, then?”

“Something needed to be said. You’ll be helping us with our work soon, and you can’t work like this. You can barely live like this. Well, I don’t exactly know how you’re living, but I doubt that you’re sleeping well.”

“I’m not really used to sharing a bed with someone.”

“It’s more than that.”

He wasn’t gonna lay off until I admitted it. There wasn’t much of a point in lying, since he was right and so certain of it, so I gave in.

“Yeah.”

“How long has he kept you like this?”

“I’ve lived with him for over a year, but he started that stuff almost three months ago. I’m sorry you had to see that.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“He’d only humiliate me like that if I did something to get on his bad side.”

“Why should I care if you did?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t care what you did.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. Now, would you like to go walking for a while? I assume you’d rather not go back inside right away.”

He stood up and held out his hand. I nodded and took it, though I didn’t need him to help me up. We paced around the block, not really trying to go anywhere, just walking. We were silent for a minute or two. Normally, I’d wait for him to break the silence, since he liked to talk more than I did. But, I think he was waiting for me. I didn’t want to keep him waiting.

“I still don’t know what country you’re from.”

“Good. You shouldn’t know.”

“Why not?”

“Because you wouldn’t like it there and I don’t want to think about it.”

“I’m guessing there are Nazis there.”

“That describes nearly all of Europe. It will probably describe all of Europe soon. America could be next, or Africa, or Asia. They could rule the world.”

“What happens then? Do we all just die?”

“Every person who would want to rule the world has a weakness for money. If there’s nowhere else to run, the only way to live is to pay.”

“So, that’s why you’re in on the falcon racket.”

“Yes. Though I have enough money to get by, as of right now, it won’t last much longer, and I’ll need a fortune to survive the new world they’re creating.”

“And I guess I’ll survive off Gutman’s fortune. I’m pretty sure he has one.”

“So, you plan on staying with him?”

“It’s not planning. I don’t want to stay with him anymore, but I don’t have anywhere else to go, and he’s not just gonna let me leave. There are worse places I could end up.”

“I can think of several.”

“Yeah. Prison, the looney bin, one of those camps the Nazis set up, back at home with my father-“

He cut me off.

“-What’s so terrible about your father?”

“He always hated me. I was a rotten kid. It’s no surprise I turned out this way. I ended up staying with Gutman at first because he was nothing like my father. He was nice to me. He still is sometimes, which seems really strange now. I know it means I’m crazy, but I still want him to be like how he was at first, which he is if I do what he says, so I try and do what he says. Is that as crazy as it sounds?”

“I don’t know. It sounds irrational, but it still makes sense.”

“I guess it’s too late for it to matter. If I’m crazy, that’s just how I’m gonna be.”

“Maybe not forever.”

“And maybe the Nazis won’t rule the world forever.”

“I suppose a miracle could happen. I’m too tired to think about it any longer.”

“If you’re tired, we should go back. Don’t lose sleep over me.”

“I won’t. One of us has to sleep, at the very least. Are you sure you’re alright going back to Mr. Gutman alone?”

“No, but I’ll have to eventually. Might as well get it over with.”

“Alright. From now on, if something’s really bothering you, well, more than normal, please come talk to me. You know where my room is, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Alright then, I’ll see you again tomorrow. Take care.”

“Good night, Joel.”

It wasn’t until he let go of my hand that I realized that I didn’t let go after he helped me up. 

Gutman was still upset with me for running away from him.

“Did I tell you that you could leave? If you’d simply asked, I would’ve let you go.”

“Why were you grabbing me like that in front of everyone? You scared me.”

“Were you afraid they’d call the police? Wilmer, they are my employees. I control them. They know better than to ask too many questions about me, or about you. Why should it matter if they know?”

“I don’t like other people seeing me like that.”

“Do you not want them to know that you belong to me?”

“I don’t belong to anybody.”

“You live under my roof. I pay for you.”

“You don’t have to pay for me. You could just pay me like anyone else who works for you!”

“If it’s any consolation, you can belong to others as well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When my employees do good work, I reward them. I share food and alcohol, why not you?”

“You’ll just hand me over to whoever wants to fuck me?”

“Only if you want to. It wouldn’t be fair to put you in a situation where you have no choice.”

“Yeah. Only you can do that.”

I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what came over me. He didn’t like it when I said he was forcing me to do anything. I obeyed orders. I had the choice to disobey and face the consequences. I doubt he felt bad about what he did, but he didn’t like me pointing it out. Since I was already in trouble, I should’ve known better.

“When have I ever not offered you a choice? I allowed you to refuse.”

“Yeah, I had to either do what you said, or you’d make me. Why are you acting like you give choices all of a sudden?”

“Why are you complaining all of a sudden?”

“I’m not complaining. I’m just saying that I don’t have a choice. That’s not a complaint. That’s just a fact. I’m sorry if it came out wrong. I’m really tired. Can I please go to bed?”

“I was just planning on going to bed myself. I’d love for you to join me.”

When he put it that way, I knew he wasn’t talking about just going to sleep. I’d annoyed him, so I owed him. Why didn’t I just apologize when I got back? He probably would’ve let me go. Even if he hadn’t, he would’ve been nice about it. Now, he’d probably want a bit of revenge.

He definitely got his revenge. The bedroom at the hotel had an armchair by the window. It was smaller than the one at Gutman’s place, but it seemed big and sturdy enough to handle whatever he got up to. That was pretty rare for hotel furniture.

I took my clothes off without being asked, knowing what was about to happen, and wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible. While I was busy with that, he took off the small amount of clothing he needed to. By the time I turned around, he was ready for me. 

“Come here and sit down like I wanted you to earlier.”

For some reason, out of all the stuff he made me do, sitting on his lap was the worst part. Something about it was just creepy. He’d hold me so close to him, almost like a child. Just writing about it makes me feel sick to my stomach.

“See? It’s not so bad, is it?”

“Not while no one’s watching.”

“You’re still upset about that. Is there anything I could do to make you feel better?”

Cold to warm again. What the fuck?

“If letting me go to bed isn’t an option, than I can’t think of anything.”

“I can.”

He wrapped his hand around my cock, already knowing what I did and didn’t like. Somehow, I would’ve prefered a straightforward punishment. 

“Do you like that, Wilmer?”

I don’t know why he bothered asking. Maybe he just wanted to hear me say it.

“Do you like that?”

He wouldn’t stop asking until I answered.

“No.”

I wouldn’t admit it. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“No? Is it that you don’t like it, or that you don’t want to like it?”

He saw right through it. Of course he did. And, of course, I didn’t answer.

“Why not enjoy it? Do you want me to hurt you? You’ve earned it tonight. I thought I might try to be a bit merciful, but it looks like you won’t have it. What a pity. Get on the floor. You know what to do. I know how many times you’ve done it before.”

He wanted my mouth and he got it. I could finish him off quickly. I probably should’ve noticed that he planned this as a punishment, so just allowing me to do something easy should’ve sounded too good to be true. It was. He grabbed me by the hair and pushed by head forward, slamming into the back of my throat before I was ready. I had good control of my gag reflex by this point, and I knew that I’d never get away with throwing up on him, so I managed not to. I could wait to do that later if I still needed to. I tried to keep going, even though he was choking me. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t kill me, even though I felt I was dying.

He let me go and I threw up, making sure not to get any on him. It really stung my throat, which was rubbed raw from before, but I tried not to let it show. Then I realized that I didn’t have to swallow anything. He wasn’t done yet. There was really only one other thing he could want. I wanted to ask if this was really all the preparation I was going to get, but I already knew the answer.

“Don’t make me do this. Please.”

I could barely talk, but I think I formed those words. 

“If you don’t, I’ll take you over to the bed and do the work myself. Neither of us would like that.”

It really felt like being impaled this time. He had to grab me by the waist and force me down onto to him. I swear I could hear my skin tearing, though that’s impossible. He did more work than he normally did, fucking me harder than I thought he had the strength to do. I couldn’t force myself not to cry, though I managed to do it quietly, and since I wasn’t facing him, he wouldn’t have to know. 

After a minute or two, he started moving more slowly, getting stuck a bit. He pushed me back to the floor, expecting me to get his cock slick again. If I didn’t know that it would only lead to something worse, I would’ve refused. I could see my blood on him. I’m not the type to faint at the sight of blood, even if its mine, but this time left me feeling a bit dizzy. I closed my eyes and kept going. He gagged me again, but I had nothing to throw up this time.

This became a cycle. The spit dried out again a few minutes later. I was slow to slick it again, so he had to push me a bit. I was even slower to sit back down, struggling when he grabbed me. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mr. Gutman! Stop it! I’m sorry! Let me go!”

I almost couldn’t breathe. I thought I’d pass out before it was over.

“Calm down, Wilmer. I’ll be done with you soon.”

His voice wasn’t cool or angry. He spoke very gently, even after all he’d done. He started acting gentle too. Letting go of my waist, letting me decide how fast to go, moving his hands up to my shoulders, while encouraging me to lay back over him and relax as much as possible. It did almost nothing for the pain, but it gave me some sick sense of gratitude, as if he wasn’t the one causing the pain in the first place. I didn’t have the strength to hate him by the time he was finished with me.

He wore himself out and fell asleep as he often did. I got off of him and immediately fell to the floor. I picked myself up, though I’m not sure how. I got my underwear on and just threw my overcoat on over it, skipping the middle layers. I just wanted to not be naked if I was leaving the bedroom, which I was. Normally, I would’ve just fallen into bed. This time, I wanted to get out for a while. Nobody could really help me, but I could at least go somewhere where someone could make me feel better. Maybe. I left the hotel room and starting fighting my way down the hall to Joel’s room.


	8. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilmer runs to Joel, who is slightly more helpful than anyone's been so far.

Chapter Eight

I had to drag myself down the hallway, limping and still kind of dizzy from the pain. When I got to where I wanted to go, I didn’t so much knock on the door a I leaned against it with force. I pulled myself up just as the door opened, but I still had some trouble keeping my balance. Joel took one look at me and seemed to know at least some of what happened right away.

“What did he do to you?”

“Usual stuff, but worse.”

“Get in here and lie down.”

He pretty much dragged me inside, and let me lean on him as he led me over to the sofa. He took my overcoat, not expecting to find only underwear underneath it. Since I was lying facedown, he could probably see the blood on my shorts. He handled it better than I thought he would.

“Is it as bad as it looks?”

“I don’t know. How bad does it look?”

“There’s blood. That’s all I can tell. I’m not a doctor.”

“Neither am I, and all I can tell is that it stings.”

“Your voice doesn’t sound very good.”

“Well, he practically tore a hole through my throat.”

“I’ll get you some cold water. I also might have a pill you can take for the pain. I travel with a lot of stuff. Wait a moment, please. I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared into the bathroom for only a few seconds, clearly trying to get back to me as soon as possible. He returned with a glass of a water and a pill, just like he promised.

“Could you sit up a little? I know it hurts, but the pill should take effect pretty quickly.”

“Yeah. Actually, can I go over to the sink and rinse my mouth out? He went down my throat so hard that it made me sick.”

“Go ahead.” 

So, I rinsed out my mouth, cleaned myself up a bit, took the pill, and drank the rest of the water as quickly as I could. Then I went back over to the sofa and pretty much collapsed. Joel scrambled over to see that I was comfortable, rearranging a few cushions, and then moved to go sit down in a chair across from the sofa. I stopped him. I don’t really know why I did it. It just happened.

“Could you stay over here for a bit? It feels weird when you’re all the way over there.”

“I suppose I can. I don’t really like to sit on the floor, but if you want me to be here, I’ll be here. Has the pill taken effect yet?”

“I think it’s starting to. Thanks for that.”

“It’s the least I can do to help you. Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not really, but if you really wanna hear about it, I can tough it out.”

“Well, I think that I understand most of it. Has he ever been this violent before?”

“No. He’s been a bit rough before, but he only ever does it when I give him trouble. I talked back to him a bit too much tonight when he was already mad at me for running away. I should’ve expected it, really.”

“Are you going to apologize to me again?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I was being sarcastic. You have an odd way of speaking about these things, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“I don’t mind you saying so.”

“Also, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Mr. Gutman about this.”

I nearly fell of the sofa in shock. 

“Are you nuts?”

“He expects you to work with us, and you’re in no condition to go running around the city doing that. I’d like to suggest that he not treat you so roughly, if only for the sake of efficiency. Personally, I’d rather he leave you alone completely, but I can’t make that demand. I can, however, request that if he’s going to abuse you, that he might do it a bit more gently, for everyone’s sake.”

“And you expect him to just listen to you?”

“If I make my case with the focus on getting him what he wants. That’s the trick. If you want something, you phrase it in such a way that the other person might also get something they want, or benefit in some way. From the way he’s talked about it with me, the falcon matters far more to him than anything else. He might want to do what he does with you, but he wants the falcon more. This shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“You haven’t lived with him. You can’t argue with him.”

“I’m not arguing. I’m making a simple request. Don’t worry. I can fix it.”

“Well, if anyone can, it would be you. Go for it.”

“Alright. This should only take fifteen minutes at the most.”

“You’re leaving now?”

“I thought it would be better to resolve this as soon as possible.”

“He’s probably still asleep. Fucking wears him out.”

“You just don’t want me to leave, do you?”

“Well, that too, but I’m serious about him being out cold.”

“If you didn’t want me to leave, you could’ve just told me.”

“That doesn’t mean you would’ve listened.”

“Wilmer, I’m not Mr. Gutman. I listen.”

Something about that stood out to me. Maybe he wasn’t just pretending to care. Though, he still could’ve been lying. I thought I wouldn’t care either way, since I really wouldn’t mind if he wanted to fuck me, but I actually did hope that something about this was real, just to know that that sort of thing existed. Father hated me. Howard loved to hate me. Eddie left me alone when she found someone better to care about. Gutman pretended to care as a trick. None of them gave a damn about me, or maybe even about anybody. I felt there was a slight chance that Joel might be different, though it might’ve been because I liked the look of him. At that moment, I liked the way the light from a nearby lamp lit up his eyes, so they seemed to glow like candles. 

I liked how soft his hand was when he touched me, holding my hand again. I liked how he not only listened, but watched to see if I didn’t want to be touched. He wasn’t Gutman. I didn’t mind if he touched me. I wanted him to. I liked how soft his voice was when he talked to me.

“May I? I don’t intend to take advantage. Whatever you want, say it. I’ll listen, even if I don’t like the answer. Do you want me to stay with you only because you’re afraid?”

“No.”

“So there’s another reason. What is it?”

“I just like having you with me. You wouldn’t be taking advantage. There’s not much you could do with me right now, but later on, I’d like to see just how unlike Gutman you are. In every way.”

“I’d be more than happy to show you, as soon as you’re ready.”

He bent over me a little, his face close enough to mine that I could feel his breathing.

“Yes?” He asked for permission.

“Yes.” I gave it.

He moved closer, letting our lips touch. After a few long seconds, it turned into an actual kiss. Without thinking, I grabbed him, pulling him closer. He’d almost climbed on top of me, but he stayed partially on the ground, probably to avoid putting too much weight on me when I was still injured and a bit sick. He put his tongue in my mouth and did something with it that felt strangely good. Maybe it was just that I could like something like this without hating myself for it. I actually wanted it this time. 

It had to end eventually, since we both needed to breathe. Everything that’d happened had left me so tired that Joel was the only reason I was still awake. It was pretty obvious, so he noticed.

“Would you prefer to sleep here, or in my bed with me? It’d just be sleep, of course. I believe we’re both too tired for anything else.”

“I’d like to sleep in a bed without Gutman. I don’t mind sharing with you.”

“Alright. Let’s go to bed then. Please don’t be offended, but I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“I’m not offended. I’m the same way.”

He took my hand and helped me up again, and then he led me to his bedroom. I was comfortable sleeping in my underwear, while he changed into pajamas. He changed in front of me, not caring whether or not I was watching, which I was. He got into bed with me, and the bed just felt immediately warmer. We were lying side by side, facing each other. I only wanted one more thing before I fell asleep, enough though it was kind of stupid.

“Kiss me goodnight?”

He didn’t say anything. He just kissed me quickly and went to sleep, keeping an arm around me, possibly without noticing. I stayed close to him, enjoying the warmth of the body heat he was providing. I drifted off to sleep, happy for the first time in ages.

I was woken up by someone knocking on the door to the hotel room. I knew who it was right away and the panic it gave me had me fully alert.

“Joel? Are you awake? There’s someone at the door. Gutman’s here for me. I know he is. He’ll know I ran away from him. I left while he was asleep without permission. I don’t even want to think about what he’ll do to me this time!”

“Wilmer, stay calm. Breathe. I’ll take care of it. You stay right here.”

He got up and went to answer the door. In his pajamas, he didn’t look as presentable as he usually did, but he seemed to have forgotten about that. Not wanting to hear Gutman’s voice, I tried not to listen, but I sort of did anyway.

“Good morning, Mr. Gutman. I’m not going to pretend like I don’t know why you’re here so early.”

“I knew that Wilmer would come here if he ran away. He wouldn’t dare run out to the streets, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I know that he’s very fond of you, and considering that you were the only one who thought to follow him the last time he ran away from me, you’re probably very fond of him yourself. I respect that. I’m willing to share my possessions with my employees if they do good work, and I don’t see how this could be any different.”

“That’s good to hear, sir. But, speaking of doing good work, if Wilmer is going to accompany us in dealing with General Kemidov, it would be unwise to injure him before he does so. Could you perhaps, for the sake of the falcon, be a bit more careful with him? I know that it’s not my place to interfere, but Miss O’Shaughnessy sought my help in managing this operation, and I’d like to see that it runs smoothly.”

“I understand completely. I shouldn’t have done what I did in the first place. I was growing a bit frustrated with his constant running away from me and I simply lost my temper. I shall definitely be more careful in the future. I don’t like to hurt him, really, I don’t, but accidents happen, I suppose.”

“Very well. If you want your black bird, don’t let it happen again. We need him unharmed.”

He slipped that last sentence in quickly, as if he was trying to avoid sounding like he was planning on not working if I was hurt again. I like to think that he would’ve done that for me, but I have no way of knowing how that would’ve turned out.

“Of course, Mr. Cairo. Now, since I know he’s around here somewhere, could I possibly have a word with him? I’d like to tell him how sorry I am.”

“Yes, Mr. Gutman. I’ll go and get him. I believe that he’s still asleep.”

Joel did come back to get me, knowing for a fact that I wasn’t asleep. I think he did it to buy time.

“He says he wants to apologize to you.”

“He doesn’t mean a damn word of it.”

“I know that. But, he’s agreed to my request. At least until the falcon is acquired, he won’t harm you again.”

“What about after that?”

“After that, once I have enough money for two people to live on, I’m taking you out of here.”

“Really?”

“I know that you won’t leave him, otherwise, and I don’t want to leave you.”

“Thank you. I don’t know how to thank you enough!”

“For you, my dear, it’s no trouble. Now, Gutman wants to see you and I can’t stall for any longer. I’ll be with you the entire time.”

“Okay. I can do this.” 

When he saw me, he greeted me like a loving father whose child went missing for fifteen minutes.

“There you are! You had me worried when I woke up and you weren’t there! I’m so sorry that I hurt you! No wonder you ran away! Please, forgive me.”

“It’s fine. You just startled me a bit.”

I felt like I had to lie to please him. He made a big show of acting like he cared, and it kind of got to me. I wanted him to be happy with me, at least because I didn’t really believe he wouldn’t hurt me again.

“Well, I’m still sorry that I did. Now, let’s go home. Breakfast has already been delivered. I got you bacon, eggs, and coffee. I believe you said those were your favorites.”

“I could definitely use a cup of coffee. Thanks.”

It was kind of weird that he refered to our hotel room as “home”. Maybe he traveled so much that home really was just wherever he happened to be staying at the time.

“Take care, Wilmer. I’ll see you in an hour or so.” Joel said, and meant it.

“Yeah. See you, then. Thanks again, for everything.”

“You’re quite welcome. Now, hurry. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll get to come back. Here’s your overcoat.”

I put it on right away, feeling weird just standing around in my underwear. I put my hands in my pockets, which I always just sort of did when I was wearing it. There was a gun in my right pocket. It was smaller than the ones I had before, but that just made it easier to hide.

I tried to rush through breakfast as fast as I could. Rhea, who was taking her sweet time as usual, noticed.

“What’s the hurry for?”

“I’ve got a lot of work to do and I don’t wanna be late.”

“You’re awfully excited about work, all of a sudden. Which one got to you first?”

“What?”

“Mr. Cairo and Miss O’Shaughnessy were arguing over which one of them could seduce you, or something. I don’t know if you’re actually queer, or if you’re all queer, so it could be either one, for all I know.”

Was Joel only being nice to me to win a bet? I should’ve been mad, but I wasn’t. If he wanted to pretend, I could pretend. 

“I’m pretty sure I told you I was queer, Rhea. And yeah, Joel won that little game and Miss O’Shaughnessy never even made a move on me. It wouldn’t have worked, but you’d think she could’ve tried harder.”

“Okay. Mr. Thursby owes me fifty pounds then.”

“You were betting on it?”

“Yeah. Mr. Thursby said that his girl could have any man she wanted easily, even if he didn’t like girls at all. I told him that was nonsense, and that with Mr. Cairo being so naturally persuasive, and you already seeming to take interest in him anyway, the winner would be obvious.”

“Rhea, if Joel was just doing this to win a bet, does it really even count?”

“I don’t know. Since he tried harder than Miss O’Shaughnessy did, though they both equally wanted to win, you probably mattered more to him than you did to her. Then again, they both went about it in very different ways. Miss O’Shaughnessy prefers to stand in the corner, batting her eyelashes and hoping men will take the hint. Mr. Cairo is usually a bit more direct than that.”

“This is really stupid, you know.”

“It’s the only entertainment I can find around here.”

“Maybe we should buy a radio and take it from place to place.”

“Wouldn’t the programs here be in Turkish?”

“Damn it, you’re probably right.”

“Well, I suppose entertainment doesn’t matter at the moment. Don’t you have work to do?”

The nearest clock showed that I’d been spending way too much time on gossip. It was only because the gossip was about me, but it was still pretty dumb.

“Thanks for making me late, Rhea!”

“It’s nothing to worry about. I’m sure your boyfriend won’t be too disappointed.”

“Shut up. See you later.”

“Goodbye, Wilmer. Take care.” 

Since Kemidov had some spies around, our whole team was careful not to travel together. We met up at a crowded coffeehouse, acting like a normal group of friends meeting up to chat about nothing, while the noise of the crowd hid our voices from anyone who tried to listen in. I was pretty sure that this plan would fail eventually, but it was O’Shaughnessy’s idea, and I didn’t want to argue with a doll who’d probably keep trying to change the subject.

When I got to the place, Thursby and O’Shaughnessy were there, but Joel wasn’t. I was usually the last to show up to these gatherings, only tagging along with Gutman when he joined, and he was often a bit late on purpose. The other two didn’t seem to find it odd that I showed up alone. Maybe they actually thought of me as my own person, and not just Gutman’s pet. Still, I was a bit impatient to see the only one of these people I cared about again.

“Where’s Joel?”

“Late.” Thursby replied.

“Why is that so important to you?” O’Shaughnessy added.

“It just is. Also, Rhea told me about the little bet you had going, Thursby. You owe her fifty pounds.”

“Fine. That just means I can keep my girl all to myself.”  
“Miss O’Shaughnessy, why’d you wanna go after me when you already had someone?”

“Men are useful. I try to keep a collection. Floyd doesn’t mind.”

“Well, I don’t like being collected, got it? Besides, I don’t like dames, anyway.”

Thursby laughed. “So I’ve heard! Of course, you’re already part of a collection…”

“What exactly are you implying?”

“I have my suspicions about Rhea, and we all know why Mr. Gutman keeps you around.”

That son of a bitch! I don’t know which was worse: His “suspicions” about Rhea, or him laughing about what he got me into. He was the one that brought me to Gutman in the first place, after all. This was his fault. 

“Hey, you were the one that handed me over to him, you bastard!”

“Yeah. It probably saved my life.”

“What?”

“If you think the teacher’s gonna fail you, you give them an apple to get on their good side. Gutman and I had a disagreement about how to run this business, and Brigid was worried he’d send someone after me. I told her I could handle it, but she insisted I do something to apologize. It was her idea to find some sort of gift for him, but he already had everything. Then, she told me he likes rough little boys like you, and that he might want a shot at taming and keeping one. I saw you and just got lucky. If you’re gonna blame anybody, blame her. It was her idea.”

My hands were in my pockets and I nearly took out my gun and shot them both on the spot, but I wasn’t that stupid. I couldn’t lose my temper. What would Gutman do to me? What would Joel think? I’d allowed one to explain himself, so I decided to turn to the other, trying to keep my voice low.

“Is he telling the truth, bitch?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. I’m so sorry! If you want the truth, I pity you. I wanted to make it up to you in the only way I know how, but you don’t like that, so I really don’t know what to do. I really am sorry!”

She sounded sorry, but it was possible that she was faking it. A lot of the people around me were damn good liars, and O’Shaughnessy was one of the best. I still don’t know whether or not she meant what she said. I probably would’ve asked some questions to catch her, but Joel walked up right behind me and I lost my train of thought.

“What are you sorry for, Miss O’Shaughnessy?”

“She was the one who had Thursby give me to Gutman in the first place! The bitch got me into this mess!”

“Yes, that sounds like something she’d do.”

He sat down next to me and put an arm around my shoulders. We were in public, so I normally would’ve been nervous, but I’d noticed that in this part of the world, guys seemed to go around hugging and kissing each other all the time and nobody thought it was weird. This was normal stuff that two close friends might do, and least I think it is. Either way, something about it calmed me down a bit. With all of us here, the conversation turned to business. Joel took charge, as he usually did when Gutman wasn’t around.

“We can return to this subject later. At the moment, there’s work to do, and we need to put aside our quarrels until it’s done.”

“Alright, but those two better start thinking of some good reasons for me not to kill them when this is all over.”

I don’t remember many full conversations about work. I can only go through the outline of plans, and maybe explain why this was taking so long. I knew more about Kemidov by this point, so I think this’ll make sense. You see, Kemidov was in exile for a reason. He’d had a bit of a history of making trouble. He was pretty young when he got into the military, but he was so good at violence that he rose through the ranks quickly, being a general when Russia fought the Japanese. Later on, after settling down and having a small army of kids, he got involved in the politics of one revolution or another, sort of helping Lenin, even though he never met the guy.

When Stalin took over, Kemidov decided that politics weren’t worth it and got into other things. He formed a gang of other bored troublemakers and they discouraged owning property by stealing it. If people complained, they got shot. The group made money off a lot of things, but ruthless pursuit of wealth was out of style in the Soviet Union. Some government official whose name I can’t spell picked a fight with them and turned out the way all the others did. Of course, Stalin wasn’t happy about the whole assassination thing, so the group fled the country. Running around Europe, the killed some Nazis and stole what they thought was a worthless statue of a black eagle. Apparently, they didn’t know the difference between an eagle and a falcon.

Kemidov found the thing interesting, so he kept it as part of a collection of stolen trophies, the various treasures of the rich people he murdered. He didn’t sell most of them and the falcon was no exception. O’Shaughnessy got to know one his sons in New York. Some time earlier, she’d gotten to know Gutman in London, and Thursby, also in London. I don’t know when or where she met Joel, but they worked together on a few burglaries. Still, they know each other in quite the same way. O’Shaughnessy stole stuff from rich men all over the world to add to Gutman’s collection. He collected lots of things, he showed me most of them, but the legendary Maltese Falcon was the one he wanted the most. So, when she found out that Kemidov might’ve had it, she ran off to Istanbul to take a look. This happened right after I met her.

O’Shaughnessy had the son introduce her to his father, who showed her his worthless eagle statue. She told him it was actually a falcon, and went on her way, not having enough money to buy it on the spot. She sent word to Gutman so he could come out to Istanbul and buy it for himself. He tried and failed. Kemidov wasn’t about to sell his Nazi murder trophy for any price. O’Shaughnessy had summoned Joel just in case this happened, since she knew it probably would.

Kemidov seemed to know people were out to steal his stuff, since he went into hiding. We’d spent the last ten days searching for him and dealing with his various lackies, who knew we were on to him. O’Shaughnessy tried to ask the son to steal it for her, since that would be the easiest way to get it, but he was loyal to his father and refused. Since he knew too much now, Gutman sent Thursby after him. That sent the entire Kemidov family after us. It made sense that they wanted to kill us, but we usually managed to get away.

Well, we didn’t always. When I started really getting involved was just after the one Kemidov son’s murder. Up until then, our guys and their guys were just playing a giant game of hide-and-seek. I was there when, in the middle of talking about taking a hostage to take us to Kemidov, his guys found us in that coffeehouse. Suddenly, four guys came up to our table, each of them pointing a gun at each of us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These notes are at the end, because they're sort of commentary on the chapter.
> 
> 1\. A lot of this character drama with Thursby and the like has nothing in the book to imply it, but, since Wilmer's not the main character, his connections to these people aren't really explored, so I expanded it for the purpose of creating a more interesting story. Thursby's death will be a bit more emotionally charged, though still not Wilmer's idea.
> 
> 2\. It's kind of impossible to convey this from the perspective of a character who never realizes it, but Joel and Wilmer's relationship starts in a kind of emotionally unhealthy way. Joel fell for him out of a combination of pity and a bet, and Wilmer is still, as he always was, desperate for positive attention of any kind. It's something of an impulsive hook-up, that may or may not develop over time.
> 
> 3\. If Kemidov was gonna do something important, I had to expand his story. Hopefully, this won't be important for long enough for it to sound stupid.
> 
> 4\. Since some time has passed since chapter five, Wilmer and Rhea are able to speak to each other again, just not privately, for fear of further retribution. I tried to write them as almost normal siblings here, and this dynamic will be developed and become more important in the future. Don't forget about Rhea. She's not in the movie, so it might be easy to, but, please don't.


	9. Ransom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kemidovs are unhappy with basically everybody. Also, Wilmer is getting worse, going crazy under Gutman's "employment". Luckily, there might be a plan to fix this in the works, but it depends on getting the falcon sometime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, these first nine chapters are a sort of prologue. After this chapter, the plot will progress more quickly. Also, this chapter ends with what will be the last scene of Wilmer and Gutman alone for at least several chapters, due to me not wanting to write torture porn. This one happens mostly "off-screen", though.

Chapter Nine

I took a quick look around, trying to figure out these guys. Had I seen them before? The guy aiming at Joel was young, though still older than me. He had blond hair and blue eyes. He was taller than all of us, looking like he was pointing a gun down at a child.

The guy after O’Shaughnessy was also very tall, but a bit older, probably in his thirties. He was blond, but a darker blond than the other guy. He had a creepy grin that made him look like the devil. He must’ve been a crazy son of a bitch, about to kill a lady and clearly looking forward to it.

The guy sticking up Thursby looked my age, or maybe a bit younger. His hair was only a few shades darker than mine, a sort of light brown color, and his eyes were more green than hazel. He had to aim up at Thursby, which he looked a little nervous about doing. 

The guy after me was far older than the others, and least in his fifties, or closer to Gutman’s age. He was big, but more muscular than fat. He glared at me in a way that gave me chills. I remembered that I had a gun on me and pointed it at him. Joel decided to try talking things out first.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Would you kindly tell us what this is about?”

The young blond responded, so he seemed to be in charge of Joel.

“My brother. Which one of you bastards shot him?”

Nobody said anything. I almost did, since I kind of wanted Thursby to die. The kid sticking up Thursby answered for him.

“It was this one, Sergei. Other than the lady, I’ve never seen the other two before.”

Despite the kid being able to kill him with the twitch of a finger, Thursby was pretty calm, making conversation as if this was no big deal.

“So, you’re Kemidov’s kids? No, two of you are two old for it. Who are you guys? If I’m gonna die, my boss should know the name of the man who killed me.”

“And who will be around to tell him? If it’s necessary, we’ll kill all of you.”

“Nikolai, if we carry on like this with all these people around, someone will call the police.” The one called Sergei advised.

“Very well, then.” Said Joel, taking back his control of the situation. “Let’s go outside and find someplace private where we can talk.”

The place they led us to was a good distance away from the coffeehouse. We traveled off into a suburb, and into some abandoned shed or something. This seemed like a good place to commit a murder, if such a place exists. Anyway, Joel was determined to talk this out with them, since they could have some useful information. 

“Alright. Let’s discuss this civilly. We can save the violence for if things go poorly. So, you who goes by Sergei, you’re another son of Kemidov?”

“Yeah. Nikolai’s my brother, my only brother now. Those other two guys just work for the family. Why do you need to know all this? Are you trying to stall for time, as if someone could come and save you?”

“If you want to get down to business, then we shall. My name is Joel Cairo and I work for G.”

So, I was the only one of the four of us that they hadn’t been introduced to. I didn’t mind. I didn’t want these lunatics paying attention to me. This is also the first time I heard Gutman just be called G. People knew who he was, and he was keeping hidden. You’d think he would’ve told me that.

The big guy that had been aiming at me before was still staring me down, even though I’d never said or done anything to him, or even around him.

“What’s your problem?”

“Nothing if you don’t give me one.”

That shut me up. I went back to listening to the argument. Joel was trying to smooth things over with the two brothers, who were having none of it. Though, since they hadn’t just killed us all yet, maybe they didn’t actually want to as much as they said they did. They at least had no reason to kill Joel or me. Strangely, we were also the most nervous. Joel talked on and on to cover it up, but I could tell he would’ve given anything to be able to get out of there without getting shot. Thursby just seemed a bit annoyed by the whole thing, and O’Shaughnessy almost seemed entertained by it.

“I, personally, have never killed anyone. I’ve never killed anyone because of people like you. Every person that dies is someone’s son or father or brother. Mr. Thursby’s actions were somewhat extreme, I’ll admit.”

“Are you trying to sell him out?”

“No. Of course not. All I am trying to say is that I understand your anger, but what would killing any of us do about that? We can’t give him back to you.”

“Yeah, but it’d certainly feel good to see you suffer a little.”

Joel winced at that. Since he was ready to back down, Thursby spoke up.

“I didn’t let the kid suffer, you know. It was one bullet through the back of his head. He didn’t even see it coming.”  
Sergei tried to say something, but Nikolai spoke over him, nearly in tears.

“Do you even know his name? You never said his name.”

“If it will shut you up, his name was Dimitri. He was the the second son of General Kemidov, your big brother. The kid was eighteen and Brigid should’ve left him alone. Happy?”

“It was his idea!” O’Shaughnessy added.

“Ignore her. Look, I’m the one who shot him, but the rest of us had nothing to do with it. If you wanna kill me, you can certainly try, but leave Brigid out of it.”

She was the only one he named, but what Thursby said seemed to imply that he didn’t want any of us to get hurt. Why would he care what happened to me with the mess he got me into?

“Fine.” Said Sergei, clearly wanting to be the one in charge. “You’re the only one that has to die, but I’m not about to let you comrades leave to rat us out. The lady stays. As for the other two, G can come and get them himself if he offers us a good ransom. Orlov, Sokolav, take the other three to a different house. It doesn’t matter which. We’ll be back for them as soon as we’ve finished with out business with Mr. Thursby.”

He said some more stuff to them, but he said it in Russian, I didn’t know what he said. One of them, the one who aimed at O’Shaughnessy, laughed and got a look on his face that told me that this wasn’t good news. It was even worse when the big guy looked the same way at me.

The big guy grabbed my shoulder and pushed me outside and towards a car that I could’ve sworn wasn’t there when we arrived. He pushed me up against it and searched me for weapons. Maybe it was my imagine after months of living with Gutman, but something about it felt wrong. Joel got in after me, apparently not needing to be led, and the other guy threw O’Shaughnessy in after him. We were all crowded in, and I was pushed up against a window. All of this pushing and crowding was really starting to get to me, and I was ready to break one of their noses just to feel less defeated until Joel stopped me. He didn’t say anything. He just grabbed my arm with one hand, not nearly enough to actually stop me. I say he stopped me because I let him. 

The drive was pretty short. I tried to watch and see where we were from the window, but we were moving too fast and everything looked the same. When I turned around to look at the others, I saw that neither Joel or O’Shaughnessy looked very nervous. Apparently, I was the only one scared by these people. Even the girl was taking this better than I was. Pathetic.

When we got to the place, an ordinary-looking house, they pushed us out of the car and inside. They led us down some stairs to a room that didn’t look as ordinary as the rest of the place. Apparently, the used the house as a jail on a regular basis. The room was empty, save for cobwebs, a blood-stained mattress, and a bucket to piss in. I’d stayed in worse, so this didn’t disturb me as much as it did the other two. Now I was the only one who wasn’t scared. This was all pretty confusing. At the last second, O’Shaughnessy was pulled back and stopped from following us.

“Not for you. Ladies stay upstairs.”

The other guy dragged her away while the big guy stayed with us.

“Get comfortable. You might be here for a while.”

Joel had calmed back down and was ready to keep negotiating.

“What are you going to do with Miss O’Shaughnessy?”

“Me? Nothing at all. That will be Orlov’s decision.”

“And what happens to us?”

“That will be my decision. Though, the Kemidov boy told me not to beat you up too much. We need you well for ransom. Especially you, little boy.”

He turned to me when he said that. How the hell did he know? Did he know? Did he just guess? Did I just look like a punk to him? I’d find out later that he’d been spying around, had seen me out with Gutman before, and could kind of tell from the way he behaved, but that moment was still creepy.

So, Joel and I waited around for a few hours, talking as a distraction from having to think about how horrible everything was.

“Are they still with O’Shaughnessy?” I asked, about an hour into the wait.

“I don’t think so,”

“Why not?”

“I don’t believe they actually want to hurt her.”

“They got plenty of reason to!”

“You weren’t watching them as closely as I was. They were both far more gentle with her than they were with you.”

“And what about you?”

“I did their work for them to avoid it. Are you alright, by the way? Did they hurt you?”

“I don’t think so. So, what do they want with Miss O’Shaughnessy, then?”

“I couldn’t say for certain. They were told to look like they planned to harm her, probably to make Mr. Thursby worry for her safety before they killed him.”

“You know what they said?”

“I can speak a bit of Russian.”

“Well, what did they say?”

“Do not harm the woman, just frighten her a little. You can do whatever you like with the two…degenerates, but be careful not to do too much damage, since we have no reason to, and they’re only here to be ransomed. We’ll get more for the little one, so be especially careful with him and don’t hurt his face.”

“That’s only a bit of Russian?”

“I spent a few months in Moscow.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, but fine. How do we get out of here?”

“We wait until Mr. Gutman arrives with the ransom.”

“While those two guys beat as to a pulp? We shouldn’t stick around here.”

“Escaping is more trouble than it’s worth.”

“What if Gutman doesn’t bother to pay for you?”

“Why wouldn’t he? I work for him. He needs me.”

“You can be replaced. I can’t.”

“How do you know that for certain?”

How did I know that for certain? When I think about it, I didn’t. I just wanted it to be true. I wanted to think I was important, even to someone I hated.

“If both of us could be replaced, than neither of us should just sit around here.”

“Mr. Gutman will come to get us. If he wants the falcon, we’re the best way to get it. Besides, I don’t think he actually wants to lose you. All I meant to say is that it’s a possibility. We’ll be alright, Wilmer. Word will travel fast. It won’t be long.”

I’m not sure if he believed himself. At that moment, his focus was on me. He sat down next to me on the mattress, even though the filth of the thing clearly repulsed him. He put his arm around me and I leaned against him. We were in private. It didn’t matter how that looked. Since he was so calm, I wanted to be close to him. If something went wrong, he could think faster than I could.

“If they kill us down here, at least we won’t die alone.”

“Wilmer, they were told not to kill us, you know that.”

“Still, I just realized. If we died now, I’d never have to see Gutman again.”

I was joking, I think, but he didn’t find it as funny as I did.

“Wilmer! You’d better not be planning your own death!”

“I’m not! I’m too scared to. I’m a coward. I just wouldn’t mind if it happened.”

“Yes, you would!”

I’m sure that I was still joking, because I laughed.

“Wilmer! This isn’t funny!”

It wasn’t, but I couldn’t stop. I don’t know what came over me. All I know is that when I snapped out of it, I was crying. I couldn’t stop that, either. I actually tried to, reminding myself of how pathetic I looked, but that just made it worse. Joel took a handkerchief out of his pocket and the room started to smell like sandalwood. It didn’t feel like a grave anymore. After drying my eyes, I closed them. I just breathed and, for a few moments, I forgot about almost everything. I was somewhere. Joel was in that same somewhere. The rest of it just didn’t matter. 

Of course, the door opened and interrupted it. The big guy, who must’ve been Sokolav, since the other guy was Orlov, was there with a tray of dry bread and a pitcher of water. I was actually surprised that they were bothering to feed us. Joel was less comfortable with it than I was. He choked on the bread, apparently having never lived on terrible, cheap food before. Sokolav laughed, which Joel didn’t like. He stood up to confront the guy, who easily kicked him over. Orlov ran in after hearing the thud. The two men argued in Russian for a bit, and then they moved.

The guys were quick. Sokolav grabbed Joel when he tried to stand up again and held him while Orlov kicked him in the chest. A scream almost covered a sound that could’ve been ribs breaking. I charged in to fight them off, but it was two against one, and I’m used to being armed. Sokolav turned around and grabbed me, pushing me up against a wall. I don’t know what he was gonna do, but, whatever it was, Orlav stopped him.

“Idiot! We promised that we wouldn’t damage him!”

“Kemidov said we could do a little.”

“And G said we couldn’t.”

“What about the other one? Did he say anything about him?”

“If he had, I would’ve told you before.”

I figured out a way to intervene of the top of my head. I stood between them and Joel, so they’d know I wasn’t kidding when I said what I said.

“Lay off him.”

“Get out of our way, boy.”

“No. You’ll have to fight me off again. I know I won’t win, and I’ll take a beating in the process, but I don’t care. If you hurt me, you don’t get your money, and if you hurt him, you’ll have to hurt me first.”

This got them arguing in Russian again while I just stood my ground.

“Fine. But, if he doesn’t eat, he’s not getting anything else. You can’t keep us from doing that.”

“I get it. Shove off.”

The two men just left after that. Joel hadn’t gotten up when they let go of him to go after me, so I checked to see if he was still alive, which he obviously was. He was still conscious.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’ve had worse. He didn’t do very much damage, I think.”

“I thought I heard bones breaking.”

“If any of them did, they didn’t break very much.”

“I hope this doesn’t end up delaying getting the falcon. I don’t think Gutman can wait any longer, and that wouldn’t be very good for you.”

“It wouldn’t be good for me? If he didn’t need me, he might not have listened to my request this morning. That would mean far worse for you.”

“Speaking of Gutman, they’ve made a call to him. How long will it take him to get here?”

“Not very long, I should think.”

He showed up a few hours later. Orlov and Sokolav stayed away until he did. The three of them came back to get us. Sokolav played a not-very-surprising trick.

“Here they are.”

“Good. Wilmer, did they hurt you?”

“Not really.”

“Mr. Cairo?”

“I’m alright.”

“They kicked him in the chest once. I’m not sure he’s telling the truth about how bad it is.”

Joel tried to say something, but Sokolav interrupted.

“You have them, now give us our money.”

“Right. Of course. How much?”

“Did Orlov not tell you over the phone?”

“Wait…I remember.”

“There’s been a change of plans. We want double for the little one.”

The trick he played next actually did surprise me. 

“Can I pay you the same amount I planned to if I leave Mr. Cairo here? He’s caused me far too much trouble as it is.”

He had to have known that I wouldn’t just let him do that. What the hell was he doing? 

“You’re not just gonna leave him here to rot! They’ll kill him!”

“That’s not really any of my concern.”

“He’s been running this operation for you. You need him.”

“I’m sure Miss O’Shaughnessy can handle that on her own.”

“You know that there’s no way in hell I’m letting you do this, right?”

“I’ve never had any trouble persuading you into letting me do anything else.”

I realized that there was only one way to get Gutman to lay off. He never gave a rat’s ass about anyone but him and me, and he wouldn’t listen to reason, so there was really only one thing left.

“Get Joel out of here and I’ll owe you one. I’ll do whatever you like and I won’t complain. Yeah, you can make me do whatever anyway, but you can’t make it easy. I can. Let me have him and I’ll let you have me. I swear.”

He gave in right away.

“Very well. I can easily afford you both.”

He gave in so quickly that it was suspicious. He definitely wasn’t behind us being kidnapped or anything. Why go through all the effort? But, did he pull that stunt to get me in debt to him? I wouldn’t put it past him, since he was always playing those kinds of mind games.

When Gutman bailed us out, I was genuinely grateful. Being locked up like that was terrifying, and I’d rather face terrors I already knew. The ride home was quiet. Joel didn’t really react to everything that happened. Maybe he was too tired. As for O’Shaughnessy and Thursby, they were waiting back at the hotel. Thursby tricked the two guys holding him and shot them both. O’Shaughnessy just escaped through a window and climbed out when Orlov left. That was all cleaned up very quickly. That whole day was just a major waste of time.

It wasn’t until we were alone together that Gutman seemed to realize that I’d been kidnapped.

“Thank the Heavens you’re alright!”

He hugged me. Since I was just glad to have been rescued, I actually returned it.

“I thought you wouldn’t bother with us.”

“And why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. We’d messed up.”

“It’s not your fault. I have to give a small amount of blame to the other three, but none to you.”

“We might’ve gotten closer to finding the falcon, seeing two places that the Kemidovs own. We can search them both.”

“I’m starting to think that I should’ve left you in charge.”

“No. I’m not a leader.”

“Alright. Now, about what you promised me before…”

“You know, if you try anything, you could hurt me again. You could lose the falcon that way. Wouldn’t that be a stupid way to lose it?”

“I have no intention of hurting you in any way, Wilmer.”

“You’ve said that at least a dozen times before and you never meant it.”

“Those were accidents. I know to be more careful this time. Tonight, I won’t even touch you. You have my word.”

“I don’t see how you could keep that.”

“Please, wait a moment. I’ll show you.”

I sat and waited for a bit too long not to worry. During that time, I found plenty of reasons to worry. I heard Gutman and Rhea talking for a bit. The talking soon became yelling, mostly from Rhea. 

“Father! Please! You’ve gone mad!”

There was a sound of a slap and a scream, and then they both came into the room, Rhea covering her face and crying.

Here is where I’m gonna break my promise to Joel. I can’t write about this. I just can’t. Some of this was my fault. Ever though he couldn’t have touched me, I still did what he said! The best I can say is that Gutman was still telling some of the truth. He didn’t touch me, and he never touched her. 

When I woke up the next morning, since he kept me from leaving, Rhea was gone. Gutman was lying next to me, rubbing my back. I could tell right away what he was going to say next.

“Wilmer, are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. Last night shouldn’t have happened. I’d been fighting with Rhea, and then you made your offer, and I simply couldn’t resist.”

I wanted to say that we’d been through this before. It was worse than the last time, but he was saying pretty much just the same thing. But, I was too tired to fight. Besides, even if I was safe, Gutman had found a way around it. Even if I was safe, Rhea wasn’t. Everything he couldn’t take out on me, he’d take out on her. She was his weapon, and I couldn’t let him use her.

From that moment on, I decided to be perfect. I’d do what he wanted and try to keep everyone else out of it. Other people wouldn’t know. Either they’d hold it against me, or they wouldn’t, and Gutman could use them. That couldn’t happen. I had a plan now. I’d be sweet with him in private, and absolutely nothing at any other time, unless I was alone with Joel. Then, I could take a break. He could play Gutman off of him if he tried to use him against me.

“I understand. It’s fine. You could’ve done far worse.”

“Hopefully, I never will.”

“I’ll never force you.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

I actually kissed him that time. If I kept him happy, he wouldn’t hurt anyone, except maybe me, but not right now

I didn’t try to run away to Joel this time. I saw him along with the others when we met to make plans to search the two places the Kemidovs had taken us to. I only said around two words that day. Joel was ignoring his troubles too, pretending not to be injured from yesterday. It wasn’t until we went home, with plans to split up and search for the falcon tomorrow, that he pulled me aside, took me to his room, and made me talk.

“Are you feeling alright? You’ve barely said a single word today.”

“I didn’t feel like talking.”

“You promised Gutman a favor for saving me. What happened?”

“He kept his word. He didn’t even touch me.”

“Then what did he do?”

“I told you.”

“You told me what he didn’t do. What did he do?”

“I don’t wanna say.”

“I want to know.”

“Why?”

“I’m keeping records.”

“Why?”

“I plan to sell the falcon to the highest bidder, not to him. If I sell it to somebody who has a reason to want me dead, they’ll be less likely to act on that desire. I could have connections.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?”

“Stealing the falcon from him would be harder work than blackmail.”

“And who the hell would you sell the information to?”

“Somebody who’d kill him for it. It wouldn’t be tied to me, so I wouldn’t get in any trouble.”

“Do you know someone who’d kill him for it?”

“I already have a few connections. It costs a fortune to hire them, unless their target angers them, and this might anger them.”

“If you get the falcon, you’ll get a fortune. Could you maybe kill him anyway?”

“Did you think that I didn’t plan for that? So, what did he do?”

“I still don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Even if it could cost him his life?”

“They’d want to kill me to! He didn’t do anything last night. I did!”

“What did you do? What did he make you do?”

“He made me…He couldn’t have done anything if I didn’t do it, you know! At best I’m a dirty coward and at worst I’m a monster like him!”

“How did he make you do it, then?”

“He mentioned you. It was either her or you. Maybe you wouldn’t have minded. I said that, but he said I’d have to do worse to you than what he was asking me to do to her. He said it was a test. He wanted to make sure I’d obey him, no matter what he asked of me.”

“Her? Rhea?”

“Yeah. I hurt her, Joel! She was crying. She begged me to stop and all I could do was tell her how sorry I was.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“So you say! You weren’t there!”

“While we’re working to get the falcon, he’ll be distracted for a while. When we find it, it’s over. He’ll be dead and Rhea will be safe. No matter what, these people won’t be happy to hear about him hurting an innocent girl.”

“He didn’t. I did.”


	10. Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The falcon is found, and then lost almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter that acts more as a transition between chapters. Next chapter, if I don't screw it up royally, should be fun.

Chapter Ten:

Everyone I’ve ever told any of this story to, which is not very many people, seems to want to hear about the Maltese Falcon more than anything else. Most people writing about this would probably name the whole damn story after the thing, which I kind of did, but only because I couldn’t think of a better title. Of course, I wrote about the thing the way I saw it. To me, it was never The Maltese Falcon of legend, it was just That Damn Bird that everyone was fighting over.

The whole story’s pretty stupid anyway. The king of Spain asked for some falcons to go hunting and a statue can’t do that. Why would he just want a bunch of useless metal and rocks shaped like a bird, when he could have an actual bird, which is what he asked for in the first place? If those Knights of Malta, or whoever, actually made the thing, it was a terrible idea and they were probably lucky that it didn’t work out.

Well, no matter what I thought about it, Gutman really cared about it, Joel really cared about it, O’Shaughnessy really cared about it, Thursby really cared about it, Spade probably cared about it, and if somebody reads this, chances are they care about it too. So, that means I should probably write down what I know about it. I don’t actually know all that much, since I wasn’t even one of the ones who went in to steal it. I was on look-out the entire time. But, I can tell you what Gutman told me, and what I saw later on, and what little I know about Sam Spade’s involvement in the whole thing, since I really don’t know much about him either.

First of all, I don’t know what Kemidov ever learned about the thing. Did he know it was valuable? Maybe. He valued it more as a personal trophy than anything else. If he didn’t, just handing it over to Gutman would’ve meant nothing but easy money. He could’ve had some interest in owning shiny things just for the sake of owning them, or he could’ve been interested in history and wanted a piece of it. I don’t know. So, I can’t tell you if he made a lead copy of the real falcon, or if the lead falcon was the one he owned, and everyone involved just messed up.

I can tell you that someone found something in Paris in the 20s. Gutman heard the legend as a school boy, and had met someone who’d claimed to have seen it in 1911. Seventeen years ago, that someone told him about the sighting in Paris and then promptly dropped dead. Somebody killed him, but I’m not sure who. Anyway, Gutman hurried to Paris and couldn’t find it. At that time, he said, he got very close to his friend’s widow, who may have been Rhea’s mother, but I’m not sure when this would’ve happened, the story’s all screwy, and I don’t feel like digging into this one.

With all the traveling he did, it was actually kind of weird that Gutman stayed in London for a few years. He had no leads, Rhea was behind in school, and he was starting to get old, so he took a break, sending other people out and waiting for news. Joel told me he had people searching everywhere, but the war got in the way and a lot of them couldn’t be contacted. He knew that one of them was still in Paris when the Nazis showed up, and he has reason to believe that they killed him or have him locked up somewhere. It probably has nothing to do with him being a criminal. 

Well, anyone who reads about crime usually wants to know how the crime was committed, unless they’re watching a Hollywood movie, since they can’t show anything these days. Well, this isn’t a movie. This isn’t a book with an editor or publisher who can tell me what I can and can’t say. If you really wanna hear how we stole that worthless bird statue, I can tell you.

It turns out that the guys who kidnapped us weren’t stupid enough to take us to where they were keeping the falcon. We waited around at one of the places, the first place they took us, until some guys showed up and we made them tell us where the falcon was. This part would’ve been rough if it hadn’t gone so quickly. Thursby only had to kick the one guy once before his girlfriend just told us everything.

Once we knew the right place, we all went there at night. Well, not all of us. Gutman never seemed to come with us for the truly dangerous stuff, but the rest of us were there, even Rhea. Joel, Thursby, and O’Shaughnessy planned to search the place, with Thursby shooting down anyone who got in their way, while Rhea and I had to stay outside the house and shoot anyone who started asking questions. I could manage that, though I didn’t really want to be alone with Rhea after what happened. 

“Can’t I go in and one of you three stay?”

Joel wouldn’t allow it.

“No, Wilmer. You’re not quite ready for something this dangerous.”

“I won’t go off on my own or anything.”

“I know, but if something were to happen to you, it would mean the death of all of us. It’s just the same with Rhea. We can’t risk it.”

“Please.”

“Wilmer, I know why you don’t want to do this, but you need to. Mr. Gutman insisted. This won’t take long.”

“Fine. I’m not getting out of this. Hurry back, okay?”

The others weren’t watching us. They were all arguing about something. Joel took advantage of the moment of privacy and kissed me. I knew we had to be quick about it, but I wish it could’ve gone on for longer. He broke it off when he realized that I wasn’t going to.

“Wish me luck.”

Before I could wish him luck, he ran off. When it was just Rhea and me out there, she went up to me, clearly scared, but determined anyway.

“May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Yeah. What?”

She struggled with finding words for the longest second of my life.

“I’ve been thinking about what happened a few nights ago.”

“Of course you have.”

“You’re not interested in girls at all, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“You heard.”

“All those things that Father said? Could he really make you do any of that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then you’re a coward. You wouldn’t take a risk to help me.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Yeah.”

“I just insulted you.”

“I know.”

“You sound like you don’t care!”

“Why should I care if a dame insults me if she’s telling the truth?”

“And you’ll just willingly admit that?”

“To you.”

“Why?”

“Are you scared of your father, Rhea?”

“Of course I am.”

“What if he told you to do something to me? What if he told you that he’d kill someone if you didn’t, or that he’d throw you out onto the streets? What if he’d make some boyfriend that you might have suffer, make you watch if you didn’t help, if you didn’t do what he wanted you to do to me? Would you still say ‘no’?”

“I’m not sure.”

“What if he whispered in your ear, not wanting me to know his plan, that if you didn’t do whatever thing to me, he would?”

“Did Father really say that?”

“Yeah.”

“He was probably bluffing.”

“I wouldn’t take a risk that might hurt you. At least I could try not to, while he certainly wouldn’t.”

“If he’d only threatened to punish you, would you still have done it?”

“No.”

“Then let’s stop talking about it. It won’t happen again.”

“Unless he threatens you again.”

“Let him threaten me. I’d like to see whether or not he’s bluffing.”

“What if he isn’t?”

“If he isn’t, even if he orders you to watch, he can’t make you stay if he’s fighting with me. Run away and get help. Tell Mr. Thursby that I’m in trouble. He promised to take care of it. He likes me. He says he has a daughter my age living in London.”

“If Gutman’s never done anything to you before, why would he promise to help with a problem that isn’t there?”

“Father never touched me, but I’ve been worried that he would for some time now.”

“He’s queer, isn’t he? It would make sense if that was a bluff.”

“Not everybody is just one or the other. Clearly, if what you say is true, he’s not just one or the other. But, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that he scares me. He’s scared me for years. He’d never physically hurt me until a few nights ago, but he’s threatened it. Once, he took a pin out of my hair and said he’d scratch me up with it if I didn’t behave. He told me lots of scary stories too. They weren’t the sort that you tell children. Really, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that he killed someone, possibly even a child. He could do anything, really. He’s mad!”

“Then forgive me for being a coward around him.”

“I understand completely. It’s just that this is a hard thing to forgive.”

“I don’t actually expect you to forgive me.”

“I probably will, eventually.” 

We were quiet for the rest of the time. Nobody came up to us. We just stood there and waited for what seemed like an eternity. I don’t know how long we were out there, but it felt like a long time.

I should probably explain why I didn’t tell Joel about that one threat to Rhea. He kept on telling me that I somehow wasn’t responsible for what I did. If he knew that someone would’ve done it no matter what, he’d insist even more. He might even act like I did the right thing, which I didn’t. I don’t know what the right thing to do there was, but that wasn’t it. Maybe I should’ve let Joel be dragged in and trusted him to take care of it. I didn’t want him to see me like that, or to let even more people see Rhea in the state she was in. There was no way to win, but I still made the wrong choice and nobody will ever convince me that I didn’t.

After having way too long to think that over, Joel, O’Shaughnessy, and Thursby finally came back. O’Shaughnessy had taken her coat off and was carrying it in a way that made it clear that she’d wrapped it around something. We ran back to the hotel without saying anything, not even trusting a cab driver to see us with it.

After that, there was chaos. Everyone crowded into the hallway outside Gutman’s hotel room, and everyone faught over who would get to carry the bundle in. Nobody trusted anyone with it. By everyone, I’m not counting Rhea and me. We weren’t getting paid for this, so we stayed out of it. Joel and O’Shaughnessy broke down into physically fighting over the thing. She was winning when Thursby picked it up and ran. O’Shaughnessy, expecting him to share with her, ran after him. Before we could chase them down, we were stopped by Gutman finally opening the door.

“What on Earth is happening out here?”

Joel stumbled forward and explained.

“Mr. Gutman, we had the falcon, but Mr. Thursby and Miss O’Shaughnessy have betrayed us! They’ve run off with it. They went back down the stairwell behind us. Why are we still standing around here?”

“They have too much of a lead on us to chase them through the streets. We need to figure out where they’re going and get there before they do. Come inside, all three of you. Let’s talk this over.”

He didn’t even sound mad. We’d failed, and he didn’t really seem to care. He just sat down on the sofa, picked up a cigar, motioned for me to sit next to him, which I did, and then waited for the others to pick their seats. Rhea took the armchair on the other side of the small table at the center of this set-up. Normally, Gutman would’ve sat there, but this armchair was actually a bit small, so he couldn’t. There was one more empty chair, just as small as the other one, but Joel somehow joined me on the sofa, anyway. Neither of us took up that much space, and we didn’t mind being crowded up together. I didn’t really like being sandwiched between the two, but I knew I’d live. 

“Alright, does anyone know where they might be going?”

Joel answered. The conversation was mostly just between the two of them.

“If they plan to escape from us, then they’ll most likely be leaving the country.”

“That’s what I’d assumed, but that leaves most of the world to consider.”

“Well, I doubt they’d go anywhere involved in the war.”

“That eliminates most of Europe, as well as Japan, probably.”

“America, perhaps?”

“Since that’s where they’re both from, I think it would be a bit too obvious. Chances are, they’re heading in the opposite direction.”

“To the Orient?”

“That would make the most sense. Neither one of them speak any language besides English, so they might want to stay within the Empire.”

“India?”

“India or Hong Kong, I believe.”

“Hong Kong is further away, so I think it would be a better choice than India.”

“But is it the choice that they would make? Personally, I’d go to India. It’s a very large country, and Hong Kong’s only a single city, which makes it far easier to search.”

“But, Hong Kong could just be a stop on the way to somewhere else.”

“Traveling right through the Pacific with the Japanese around?”

“It’s not impossible, if they’re headed for a neutral country.”

“Then they’d circle right back to America.”

“It would seem so difficult that they’d want us to believe they wouldn’t take that risk. However, Mr. Thursby is a gambler. He’s fond of risks.”

“Then we should book passage to Hong Kong immediately. Everybody must pack up their things. We’ll live on the first ship available.”

I didn’t have much to pack, so I was done pretty quickly. Gutman often carried half a museum with him, and Rhea had to help him get that mess packed up, so they’d be a while. Joel also carried a lot of stuff with him, so he’d be in his room for a long time. I knew he probably wouldn’t mind if I offered to help, even if it was an obvious excuse to be alone with him again.

Sure enough, he almost pulled me into the room. 

“Wilmer, there’s something you need to know.”

“What?”

“In order to secure the falcon for myself, I may have to work separately from Mr. Gutman for a short while. I don’t know yet whether or not I’m going to do this, but it is a possibility. I’m telling you now, because I want you to know that I’ll come back for you. It won’t be permanent. Miss O’Shaughnessy might be more likely to negociate with me if she believes that I’m working alone. But, I will return to Mr. Gutman and accept his payment for getting it to him.”

“What happened to the blackmail plot?”

“I might still go through with it, but I’m not sure if I want to take the risk of traveling with the falcon when others will still be after it. Mr. Gutman won’t give it up forever. He probably won’t give you up either, and I don’t want to put to much time into guarding an object when I also have a person to look after.”

“Alright. If you decide to go off on your own, can you let Gutman know before you do it? If I’m the only one who knows what your plan is, he’ll want to get it out of me. I wouldn’t just tell him of course, but he’d damn near kill me to get me to, and he won’t lay off until I do.”

“I thought about that. I had no intention of putting you in that sort of danger. That’s why I’m giving up the falcon and just accepting the reward. I know what sort of man he is now. None of those things he does to you are accidents. If I had the falcon, and we were separated, he’d torture you, both for fun and for profit. And least, that’s what I think he’d do. He has no reason to now, but look what he’s done! I’m not scared of most people, with the exception of the Nazis, of course, but Mr. Gutman unnerves me. Though, he disgusts me more than he frightens me.”

“I guess I should admit that he scares me too. Don’t go spreading it around.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

For a while, I just helped him pack and we barely said anything. When everything was packed up, we both sat down on the sofa, staring out the window. Neither one of us seemed to know what to do with ourselves. Early on, I often got the feeling that he was afraid to touch me. He knew I’d had it rough, and maybe he thought he’d somehow make it worse. At the same time, I was nervous, so I just waited for him. It was around this time that I got tired of waiting.

I pulled him towards me, almost on top of me, and kissed him, trying to remember and copy some of the stuff he did the first time. He responded quickly, lifting me up a bit and towards him, since I don’t think he wanted to fall on me. We kept pulling each other back and forth, not really paying much attention, neither one wanting to be fully in control. I’d later find out that we were both the type to not want to be fully in control in bed. Each one of use would want the other to be on top, when guys normally fight over who gets to be on top. I just wasn’t used to it, and it wasn’t his thing, and I’ll explain more of it later.

I wanted to keep going, to try other things with him, but there was no time. Gutman called for us, and I realized that I was still in pretty bad shape, anyway, and that meant I’d have to wait, no matter what. 

Within a few hours, I was on another boat. The trip to Hong Kong was longer than the trip to Istanbul, as international waters were difficult to navigate. We sailed all the way around Africa and India, making several stops along the way. I passed the time by getting drunk and seasick in turns with Joel. He’d drink while I was sick, and then I’d drink while he was sick. Whichever one wasn’t sick could look after the other when they weren’t drinking.

The trip served as a long break from Gutman, since he never seemed to be in the same places that we were. I had my own cabin, and my own bed in that cabin, so I could finally have time to myself. When we got to Hong Kong, I had my own bedroom in the hotel room, which was much bigger than the one in Istanbul. 

It didn’t take long for Gutman to start calling for me again, but he went easy on me, and I just sort of ignored it. I’d go away in my head and think of other things, and it would be over in a few minutes. More and more, my mind would wander to Joel, and thinking about him changed the mood completely. I thought about him touching me, and I got forget who was actually touching me. Though, when I snapped out of it, it felt even worse, like waking up from a really good dream.

Our entire stay in Hong Kong was a series of long days of looking for clues about Thursby and O’Shaughnessy. At night, everyone usually just went to bed, though, as usual, Gutman did almost no work himself, so he had more energy at night than anyone else did. When Gutman didn’t want me, I got to spend more time with Joel than I had before. It started off a bit awkward, but we were both willing to listen, and we both wanted to talk, at least to each other. 

Joel actually told me a bit about his past, though he was pretty vague on the details. He was from somewhere in Europe, his family was sort of rich, but not really, he ran away from home at around the same age that I did, he ran around Europe and had a lot of sex, and then the Nazis took over and ruined the whole thing. He got arrested once, and they beat him up pretty badly before he escaped, which he only did by making a deal with an officer who was in charge of the guys who beat him. He went to Egypt and changed his name, and then spent a few more years traveling. He got fake passports from the different countries he’d lived in for more than a year: Greece, France, and Britain. He’d actually been living in Istanbul when he met O’Shaughnessy. They’d never actually gotten along.

We both knew that we were lucky to be where we were, and not someplace worse, and we’d paid a heavy price for it. Though, it still felt like he’d make more of his own choices.

“What was that deal you made?” I remember asking.”

“Can’t you guess?”

“Well, since you didn’t say right away, yeah, but this guy’s job was to catch queers and send them off to die somewhere, so why would he agree to that?”

“His job was to catch lots of people. Men such as myself were actually quite rare. He seemed to have the idea to protect himself by hiding among the people who wanted him dead. He shared their other prejudices, something which he made very clear, so they wouldn’t suspect him.”

“How did you know? Making that offer could’ve made things worse.”

“Well, it was his offer, not mine. He said that he’d be willing to let me escape in exchange for certain favors. Normally, I would’ve refused, since I doubt he’d have actually forced me, but, my chances in captivity were far worse, and I knew that I could make him pay for it.”

“How?”

“I gave him what he asked for, but I didn’t do so very quietly. The others heard something, went to investigate, and I escaped while they fought. I believe he might’ve been sent away in my place.”

“Wow.”

“I actually almost feel sorry for him. He was a coward, afraid of the same fate as I was, and I left him to it. Nobody really deserves what they probably did to him, but I still can’t truly say that it doesn’t feel like he does. Considering the sort of man he was, I don’t really care!”

“Forget about the bastard. If you feel bad, remember that the last few minutes before you sent him to hell were probably worth it.”

“How do you know?”

“Are you saying I’m wrong? I assumed you were good.”

“Would you like to know for certain?”

“Yeah.”

“I think you’ve had enough time to rest, then. Maybe you should ask Mr. Gutman if he’d mind if you stayed the night.”

“Let’s just go. Gutman can go fuck himself for a change.”


End file.
